


Tales from the Trails

by CanadianSummer



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Multi, One Shot Collection, Reader-Insert, the explicit is for the one smut fic i write a year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25705066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianSummer/pseuds/CanadianSummer
Summary: A collection of stand-alone reader insert fics, mostly taken from my Tumblr.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Reader, John Marston/Reader, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, it's mostly arthur atm
Kudos: 83





	1. Plagued (Arthur Morgan/Gender Neutral!Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to compile my one shots I do on my Tumblr here, which you're free to find or request over under the tiredcowpoke username there. Though, I am willing to take them here, but it may take me longer to get around to. 
> 
> Anyway this is an older one. 
> 
> Summary: "You and Arthur recall a hunting trip during your first night at Clemens Point."
> 
> Warnings: Talk of grief, hypothermia, drowning, and near death.

The move had come with chaos, though that was nothing new. It felt like it was constantly on the coattails of the Van Der Linde gang, and you had been growing steadily used to it.

However, there had been the hope that the new location would alleviate the nightmares. The heat helped in making you feel like you weren’t still in them when you woke, biting down on a couple of your own fingers to hold back whatever yell or sob that could rip from you. The only new thing about the situation was the content of the dreams. Coming down from the mountains had been rough, though the fact that you had all been fighting off the idea of a frozen death had been enough for you to feel distracted from what happened back in Blackwater. Yet, moving down from there and into the supposed new beginning that Horseshoe Overlook offered was a nightmare in and of itself for you. While it offered the idea that you all would be free from the law that pursued (for that moment, at least) and there wasn’t the threat of freezing to death, it lifted that pressure off you in order to allow another weight to settle on you.

It was the absence of someone. People carried on like it was nothing and you were left to push against a barrier that felt impossible to move. The nightmares had come shortly after that. Not a restful night’s sleep since, it felt like, and the current night was no different. You had been hoping that distancing yourself physically from those places would stop them from plaguing your unconscious hours, and yet the first night offered no rest, just as it was at Horseshoe.

Once you had let the shaking settle and you could stop biting into your fingers, you gathered yourself up quietly. While you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t want to disturb anybody else. Though, the lack of sleep made your limbs feel heavy as you walked quietly. Some of the campfires burned softly at the hour, most figures your eyes landed on were curled up on bedrolls, outside of the few that were slumped by the fires or tucked against the trunk of a tree. You recognized Dutch’s tent, the flaps closed as the light breeze moved them gently. Really, it didn’t do much to keep the heat from settling, but without it you guess it would be worse. Arthur’s wagon still sported a lit lantern, a part of you expecting to see him curled up on his cot, but it was empty.

While you didn’t find the man’s company to be completely terrible, as much as he would insist it was, you were hoping he was out and not lingering somewhere in camp. You couldn’t really trust yourself from…well, you weren’t too sure. To start crying? Yelling? Well, whatever it turned out to be, you didn’t want an audience, as hard as it was to not have one in camp. You made your way around Dutch’s tent out toward the water, deciding to take a walk out toward the rundown dock. The wood was rough under your feet, but you couldn’t be bothered to pull some boots on and you sunk yourself down to sit by an edge. You dropped a leg down to dip your foot into the water, swishing it around somewhat as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes.

You still felt like you could nod off, but your mind wouldn’t let you.

Really, it was out wandering. You thought back to the rush to leave Horseshoe—you’d heard word about Cornwall and a shootout. Packing up wasn’t as inconvenient as you thought it would be, restlessness was taking hold and you felt the place had cursed your mind. Wherever you were moving to, it was a new chance and you were all too willing to take it. You had hoped that the images of your hands scraping against the underside of a frozen lake and the hole in your sister’s head would have been left behind there, but apparently not. It left a certain amount of frustration in you—when were you going to let go? A part of you felt a heavy guilt at the thought, especially where your sister was concerned, but you just wanted some sleep. Really, the lake and her death were two separate events, but in your sleep your mind kept trying to mix them together in a terrifying mess of images and feelings. It left you with a great amount of anxiety, if not outright yelling when you woke. You’d caught the eye of a couple people for that—concerned, annoyed, you’d seen both.

You shut your eyes as you tried to focus back on the feeling of the wood under your fingers, trying to push the thoughts out. However, you didn’t quite notice the sound of footfalls against the dock until they were right up beside you.

“Lean yourself a little further out and you might find a face full ‘f water.”

The slight jump couldn’t be helped, your eyes snapping open as you turned to look up at the source of the voice. Arthur was a little closer than you had been expecting, the darkness of the night making it hard to make out his expression all that well, though you could hear the light teasing in his voice. If only you could find humor in this, but you couldn’t help the short huff of a laugh that left you.

“With this heat, it might be nice.”

He hummed in agreement, shifting in his stance to glance around himself somewhat. “That why you’re awake still?”

“Partly,” you admitted, lifting your leg slightly to pick off a wet leaf that had settled onto your foot, “You can’t judge though, I saw your cot.”

“You watchin’ me sleep now?”

“Can’t watch you sleep if you never do…” you muttered sarcastically in return, a little more testy than intended as you shot him a look, “It was a glance as I passed. It wasn’t hard to notice.”

He seemed to accept that with a short chuckle, now moving closer to tap your side with his boot—move over. With a sigh, you relented and scooted more toward one of the wooden posts as he sat himself down beside you. You could smell the cigarette smoke on him, but you hadn’t turned to look back at him as you watched the water. Hadn’t he, Hosea, and Dutch brought a boat back from that fishing trip they went on? You couldn’t see it nearby, but you didn’t give much of an effort to look. They seemed to settle in—Dutch seemed excited, a bit of a jump to his step. It was nice to see, admittedly, even if you couldn’t bring yourself to echo it. A small sigh escaped you as you finally turned to glance at the man sitting beside you.

“What’s your excuse?” you asked, “You don’t look like you’re suffering from the heat all that much tonight.”

“Neither do you,” he returned, leaning himself to rest his shoulder against a post as he glanced over at you, “Just got back.”

“You find anything interesting on your journeys?”

“Sure…” he muttered, shaking his head, “Not sure what I take 'f this place.”

“Yeah, me too.”

It was the first night, you had barely given it a chance. Still, you weren’t exactly involved in anything big, not since your sister died. You couldn’t blame anybody, you were just getting back on your feet and you still cried out at night like Jack might for his mother. The thought put a bit of heat to your cheeks, your teeth finding purchase on the inside of your bottom lip. If Arthur knew about that, he had the decency to not mock you about it. You could thank him for that, at the very least. As you released your bite, you found the words leaving you without much thought.

“You remember that hunting trip in the Grizzlies?”

“I’m tryin’ to forget it,” he muttered, glancing back over at you, “Why?”

“Don’t remember much about it, but it’s enough to keep having nightmares about it. Think I’ve had one every night for the last couple days.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…” A sigh escaped you, some embarrassment cropping up in you at the admission. Still, if there was anybody who knew understood, it was him.

It had been shortly after you had left the mountains—which meant it was just a bad idea to begin with. Hell, you still weren’t sure what he meant by it, if it was even his idea to begin with—you doubted that it was, he had seemed as thrilled about it as you had been. So shortly after Blackwater and Colter, all you wanted was to lie down and sleep. Your sister’s death sat heavy on your chest—as it still did, but you had agreed to leave camp for that long to go do it. If anything, you were looking to get away from the sympathetic looks and Grimshaw’s dwindling patience…

“What about?” he asked, pulling you from the memory of the ride up. Blinking a few times, you shrugged.

“I remember…falling through the ice. My horse got spooked because of that damn bear, threw me back and…I met ice that broke so damn quickly… Took everything in me not to inhale once that water hit me. Still, I…these past couple nights, I just…get stuck there. I can’t find the hole I fell through, so I’m just scrambling until someone finds me under there. Sometimes…” you swallowed, shaking your head, “sometimes it’s my sister with that bleeding hole in her head, just pounding against the ice or staring down at me. Other times, it’s you but…you just don’t bother. Either way, I’m just left under there until I wake up and—well, that’s where the yelling comes in.”

You let the story linger, though, really, just telling someone lifted something in you. Granted, he had been there to see the parts you couldn’t remember between the freezing and the confusion. Still, you couldn’t really bring yourself to look back at him, though you heard him shift beside you.

“Jesus…” Arthur muttered, “An’ you just couldn’t tell anybody this?”

“Who could I tell?” you asked, shaking your head, “Would end up some fireside story to be told at my expense.”

“Anybody turns it into that, you tell me,” he replied, meeting your gaze as you turned to glance over at him. An appreciation at hearing that settled in you, giving you a small bit of relief about the whole situation. You watched as he rubbed at his chin slightly before he continued, Arthur glancing back at you. “You really don’t remember much of that?”

“Not completely,” you muttered, glancing back out toward the water. The fact that you could sit out on the dock at all after that was something, though you were more concerned about being held under by something or someone. Still, you sighed, running a free hand across your arm in thought. “I remember falling in, as I said. I know what happened and the ride up there. However…I remember surfacing and trying to find something solid to hold onto. Then you rode over, and tried to pull me out…after that it gets mixed up. I remember a stove, but then it’s just Valentine and that doctor.”

“You damn near died out there,” Arthur supplied, his voice harsh. You glanced over at him with a slightly confused look—what, was that your fault? Well…maybe. You had rode out onto the lake with your horse to look at a carcass. However, you didn’t have the chance to voice the thought as he continued. “I had tried to keep you warm in that cabin we found. That’s where that stove was, I had you curled up in front of it all night after I’d piled jackets and blankets on you. I’m surprised you don’t remember that, considerin’ you’d been conscious enough to put some dry clothes on that I found on your horse.”

You shook your head, not remembering that. However, yeah, that jacket and the outfit you wore up there wasn’t seen again.

“After that, you were out 'f it,” he continued, “Kept wakin’ up to ask where you were. Thought the stove would be enough, but I’d made the mistake of fallin’ asleep myself and when I woke up, that fire was out and you were pale as a damn ghost. Took a while to wake you back up. The fact you made it to Valentine was a damn miracle. I don’t blame you none for havin’ nightmares about it.”

“I had no idea…” you muttered, letting out a humorless scoff—more so at yourself than him. “Here I’d been thinking that I had deserved that, after what happened to my sister, while you’d…”

“What in the hell makes you think you deserved that?” he asked, sounding vaguely offended. At the tone, you wanted to pull the words back into your mouth as you pressed it into a thin line, shutting your eyes.

“I don't—I don’t know. Grief?” you snapped, “I’m only just starting to feel a shift in that now. She took a damn bullet for me and I’m still here, I have to deal with that.”

Arthur seemed to stand down after that, relaxing somewhat. In the retelling, you had almost lost sight of where you were. You could barely feel the coolness of the water you left your foot soaking in, exhaustion sitting heavily on your mind, but you were wrapped up in everything. He seemed tired too, if the whole situation said anything. He wasn’t exactly the most open man you’d ever met, but you hadn’t been expecting him to fill the gaps in for you, as almost angry he sounded. If it was actually at you or not, you weren’t sure, but…

“I ever…thank you for that?” you asked finally, glancing over at him. Arthur lifted his hand, shaking his head to dismiss it in his usual fashion. However, you found yourself reaching out to grasp at his shoulder gently. “Thank you. I mean it. As you said, I damn near died out there.”

“I thought it’d be warm enough for a trip, didn’t even cross my mind that the ice would give,” he stated with a shrug.

“You did everything you could, even if that’s not even remotely your fault. Hell, I should have known better.”

“Wouldn’t have left you under the ice,” he muttered, “Almost fell in myself trying to get you out.”

“It’s a stupid nightmare, really. I appreciate that, though.”

“Should talk to Hosea or Charles, might know something to help you sleep,” he continued, a part of you relieved at the change of subject.

“I tell Hosea anything about that trip, I won’t hear the end of it,” you muttered lightly, letting out an actual chuckle, “But I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied, some humor leaking back into his tone. There was a lull of silence after his words, the hint of a smile touching your lips. However, you found yourself glancing over as you felt the warmth of his hand against your shoulder for a few moments, the smile finally touching your face as he removed his hand so he could rise to his feet.

“You goin’ back to bed?” he asked, lingering as he glanced back down at you as you pulled your leg up from the water, rising to a stand as well.

“Might as well,” you muttered, “I doubt Grimshaw is going to give me any sympathy.”

He gave a nod in understanding, holding your gaze for a few moments before you found yourself smiling softly again.

“You know, I’d hoped that you wouldn’t find me once I saw that cot empty, but I’m glad you did. Thank you. Really.”

“Yeah…don’t mention it,” he replied, shifting to move back toward the camp, “They’ll pass…the nightmares. There ain’t much time 'round here to really let things settle, but…”

“I know,” you said with another nod, “That’s what I’m hoping.”


	2. Thaw (John Marson/Gender Neutral!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: “Hi there 👋🏻 “How long have you been standing there?” with JM , please 🖤”
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of animal attack, nothing too heavy. Pairing could be taken as one-sided.

Colter was, by far, the worst place you had the misfortune of staying in.

The coldest, too, though you didn’t have much to compare it to. Settling with some heavier clothing that was more suited for cooler temperatures and not the snowy hell you found yourself in, along with the blanket that Grimshaw had forced on you, that was really all you had to battle the climate in the mountains. It seemed like a number of people weren’t really prepared. You hadn’t been running with the gang for too long, lingering close to a year, but they had seemed more situated out west in the heat and desert. Now, you were all up in some abandoned mining town, black and burnt structures sticking out of the snow like the remains of an animal left in the snow. There were a few buildings left, equally falling apart and the cold air leaked in through the holes in the walls and floors, but you had all tried to make due with what you could.

John was missing, too. Had taken off ahead with Micah and Arthur, the two of them returning but he was still out there. Maybe he had cut ties and took off but…no—no, that didn’t seem right. You didn’t really know him too deeply, though the conversations you had were friendly enough. For John. He seemed to be struggling with his wife and child, his place in the gang, it seemed like a lot of stress and effort for him to just drop because of a snow storm and this whole mess. You trusted Dutch, Hosea, all them that were trying to make this work in the moment—you almost didn’t have another choice.

So, really, as the days stretched on with him not turning up, you found yourself agreeing with Abigail that something was probably wrong. Hell, you had almost jumped at the idea of heading out to go find him—you were anxious for him in a way that you couldn’t really place, perhaps it was that you felt closer to him than most other people in camp. Still, despite that, your offer to join had been turned down. Arthur looked like he would rather be doing _anything_ else, but Javier pointed out that your clothing likely would just end up freezing you right along with him. If that’s what even happened to John. He wasn’t wrong, it didn’t take long at all for the cold to rattle your bones, numb your fingers and toes, and make your teeth rattle together. You were ultimately better off indoors, for now.

Once they got him back, _if_ they got him back, maybe you’d find a way to help then. That was really all the comfort you could give yourself at being turned away. A part of you really wanted to fight, insist that you would be fine, but it was hard to stand outside, shivering, while trying to argue that.

The day stretched on, the snow not letting up and the camp’s mood suffering right along with the drop in temperature as the sun set in the mountains. The fireplace in the main buildings and the small scout fires outside offering the only source of light and warmth. You tried to distract yourself from the cold and your wandering thoughts, trying to listen to the handful of conversations that floated around. Questions about safety, where they would go next, when the cold would let up, Miss Adler and her unfortunate situation, talking about those who fell in Blackwater—it was a lot to take in but it was better than trying to mull over losing more people. John, Javier, Arthur—they headed out into all of that, who knows if they would all make it back.

It was nightfall before Lenny’s voice rang out about the arrival of Javier, Arthur, and John. You didn’t run out into the snow to go grab him off the horse, it seemed like a number of other people went out to do that enough. Still, you lingered to watch from inside, John’s body a silhouette in the lamplight as he was dragged inside toward a cot near the back of the room. Really, the area wasn’t much better, but with the fireplace it was at least warmer than outside. In passing, you got a good look at him. His clothes were tight where the snow had clung and froze them to his body, but his face was definitely what caught your attention. One side of his face had almost been ripped open by deep claw marks, some animal, but you were fairly sure anybody could see that it hurt. Might not heal all that nicely, either, but…well, he had to survive this place, first.

Really, all you could do was linger. You didn’t have the medical knowledge to help much, and really his family should be the ones to see him, but you couldn’t help but really want to do more. Bring some sort of comfort, though you weren’t sure in what way that would be useful.

Considering the best thing for him in the moment was to rest and get warm, you decided to just go to sleep yourself. At least, as much as you could manage in the crowded building with the other members of camp.

Though, the next day offered some opportunity around mid-day.

Arthur and Charles had left to hunt, which was some relief because you were fairly certain you hadn’t actually eaten in a day. It was hard to ignore at points, the aching and the nausea, and you were certain you weren’t the only one trying to shove those feelings aside. The main building was kind of bare, a few people huddled around the fire, sitting close and talking quietly. Some were out, doing what they could, trying to figure out the best way to get out of there. John appeared to be asleep when you approached, bundled in the cot, the cuts closed up and swollen.

With a small sigh, you turned to glance out of the window at the snow falling—a little less than the blizzard that had hit, but it still wasn’t enough for them to be moving anywhere. They needed the wagons, you knew as much. Going on foot would be death, but you weren’t sure how much better this place would be in a while. You let your thoughts wander, falling back a couple days before Blackwater. You’d felt so sure in your place, now it was completely uprooted. It wasn’t that the gang didn’t move in the months you were with them, but it wasn’t anything ever like this.

From what you had heard here and there, you weren’t alone in that thought.

“How long you been standin’ there?”

The raspy voice behind you made you jump slightly, eyes widening a moment as you turned around somewhat to glance his way. John hadn’t moved much from where he was laying, though his eyes were open, what little you could see of them behind the bandages and swollen flesh, his head lifted slightly.

“Not long,” you replied, shifting so that you were facing him fully with your back against the cold wood of the cabin, “How you feelin’?”

“Well as I look,” he replied, letting his head fall back against the cot with a slightly strained grunt, “Don’t need to watch over me on my account.”

“Sorry for being concerned,” you returned, sarcasm sitting heavy in your tone as you took the invitation and wandered toward his bedside, pulling the chair there toward yourself before you sat down. John tilted his head so he was looking toward you, a sorry sight for sure. Despite his distance and frustration, you couldn’t help but hold some sympathy for him.

Out of one hell and into another, most likely.

“What happened?” you asked, shifting forward to rest your hands in your lap, rubbing them together in an attempt to warm them. “Outside the obvious, I guess.”

“Ain’t nothin’ _but_ the obvious,” John returned, letting out a huff that sounded close to a chuckle, “Got attacked by some wolves, they killed my horse and I was left on that mountain until Arthur and Javier were lucky enough to find me.”

“Way they dragged you in, I thought they’d _just_ managed to pull you away from bein’ another frozen resident on that mountain.”

“Came close…” John muttered, exhaling a sigh as he glanced toward the ceiling, letting out a puff of air in a thin mist, “You really concerned 'bout me?”

“Sure, a lot of us were,” you replied easily, despite the small part of you feeling a little on the spot about that.

“Don’t know 'bout Arthur, but sure,” John replied, some light humor in his voice. You snorted lightly, a soft smile crossing your face. Oh, it didn’t take long to see the animosity Arthur held toward John over something. You hadn’t asked. Honestly? You didn’t really want to poke the bear and Arthur certainly seemed the type.

“Eh, I think he cares,” you muttered, “Just might not…show it all that well. I honestly don’t know him very well.”

“He’s just bein’ a bastard,” John muttered around a light cough, rolling his head back to the side to glance toward you.

“Seems real angry at you for somethin’.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

John paused, eyeing you for a moment before speaking up. “You been with us for a while now, couple months right?”

“Yeah, somethin’ close.”

“All 'f this, why ain’t you run? Ain’t been here all that long.”

You two were speaking rather softly, you didn’t want to disturb the other people in the room and it seemed John didn’t have the energy to really speak at a louder volume. However, the question immediately made you all too aware of how not alone you two were—it wasn’t that you had thought about running. Didn’t even cross your mind, really. However…well, he had a point. You were only just getting closer to a couple people, considering your lone wolf tendencies. Still, it was a heavy question to be asked in a room full of Dutch’s followers.

“Were you expectin’ me to?” you asked, tone a little flat. You didn’t want to show that he had put the idea in your head.

“I—no, it’s a stupid question. Shouldn't have asked it,” he returned, letting glancing away from you for a few moments.

You let a small grin touch your features, tilting you head. “Well, maybe I like your company enough to make me want to stay, even if we all freeze out here together.”

“Can’t imagine you’d want to be around me after this—ain’t nothin’ fixin’ my face.”

“Eh, maybe you’ll grow into the scars.”

John let out a small huff at that, the air escaping in some mist through his nose as he laid back to stare back up at the roof of the cabin. Might have smiled, might have not, you weren’t sure. Still, it was enough to put some ease in you after the sudden question. Leaning back in your chair, you took a glance around the room before speaking up.

“I’ll let you rest,” you stated, standing, “Think Charles and Arthur went out huntin’, might bring back some food so you won’t be hungry in all 'f this at least.”

“That’d be nice,” John returned, the longing in his voice not hard to miss. You and your stomach could relate. “I, uh…don’t worry 'bout me, alright. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, John…” you replied with a small nod, “Hey, maybe once you’re up and runnin’, we can get a trapper t’ make you a wolf hat.”

“I get that enough from Arthur, don’t you start,” John muttered after a short huff, turning his head away as you chuckled lightly.


	3. An Early Morning (NSFW - Arthur Morgan/Gender Neutral!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Modern AU: A week of tension and self-esteem issues finally comes to a head one early morning for you and Arthur."
> 
> Warnings: Some self-esteem issues and mentions of depression, but most heavy one is smut (oral).

You weren’t too sure what the issue was anymore. **  
**

Something had shifted, it was bothersome that you couldn’t figure out what it was exactly. At first it just seemed like general business, you weren’t pushy and neither was Arthur. That was something you liked about him, that could go about your own business without worrying too much if the other was expecting something. Working from home while he worked in the nearest town was a nice set up, much as your days could feel a little boring and lonely at points. Recently, that had been showing itself much more frequently, even the odd message not really doing much. Somehow, Arthur had become more clipped in real life than he was in texted words, and you had found yourself wanting to ask what was going on but something pulled you back into letting him sort it out. Arthur seemed to have a lot going on under the surface sometimes, and you knew in certain points there was nothing you could really do about it aside from being there for him.

This, though? It was something else. 

He was taking more work and shifts that had him seeing you less, and it seemed like he was avoiding you or avoiding talking about something. You had been with him for a while, it wasn’t like you couldn’t see the signs that he was putting up a wall, but it was still a hard subject to navigate. It had started happening after that wedding for a friend and the trip into the city. You had been raised there, you knew the city enough to occupy both your times during the down points between the events, but even then you knew Arthur felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He hadn’t completely, but around your friends he really did seem to stick out a bit in mannerisms. Showing up as a couple had pulled some questions and conversations your way, stories about past relationships and growing up. It had seemed nice at the time, you hadn’t suspected anything wrong. 

Now…now it was just strange how it seemed to shift a week or two after you had come back from the city. 

You had been talking back and forth with a friend about the whole thing, a message making you pause as you had sat at the foot of the bed. 

_‘Are you two going to seperate, then?’_

The question had put a pit in your stomach, shutting the phone as you placed it screen down against your leg as you leaned forward on an elbow, running a hand across your mouth in thought. That was…a scary question you really didn’t want to answer, or really knew the words for one. It made you realize that you had to say something, or the issue would really sit for too long for you and Arthur to really do anything about it. You had tried not to let the various conclusions your mind came to really sit at the forefront, but there was a mystery there. Was he really done with the whole thing and couldn’t find the words for it himself? Should you treat this as another depressive period? Did he find someone else? The thoughts had you taking in a breath, shutting your eyes as you vowed that you would get this figured out soon. 

A few days later, that vow returned to you as you woke up in bed early in the morning, turning your head to glance toward the window to see the faint light of day starting to glow from behind the curtain. You knew you weren’t alone in the bed, feeling the warmth of another body nearby but it still felt like there was distance even then. Arthur was never an overly affectionate person in public, as you had come to understand, but he was usually more relaxed about it behind closed doors and in bed. You had gotten used to feeling him settling himself around you at night, or waking up pressed into his back or wrapped in his arms. 

Lately, it had left the impression that he would sleep on the floor if it wasn’t so damn obvious. 

You slowly turned your head to glance toward him, Arthur’s back to you as he appeared to be sleeping. However, as you shifted up slightly to roll over, you saw that he had his eyes open. It gave you a moment’s pause, settling back down for a moment as you watched his shoulders rise and fall slowly in time with his even breathing. Letting out a small breath of your own, you reached out to run a hand against the back of his shoulder. Arthur tensed just slightly, making it known you had pulled him from a thought as you kept your hand pressed there for a few moments before letting it drop. 

“Are you gonna talk to me at some point about what’s happening?” you asked, voice somewhat thick from sleep, “Because it’s starting to become a lot.” 

“‘Bout what? Me sleepin’?” he grumbled, shifting slightly to glance at you over his shoulder for a moment. 

“Unless you started sleeping with your eyes open, I think we both know that’s not it.” 

He seemed to regard you for a moment before shrugging, settling back into the same position he was in before. That wall still up. Arthur let out a slow sigh through his nose, shaking his head lightly against the pillow. 

“It’s nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

“See,” you started, your voice a little sharp as you raised up to sit with your back against the headboard somewhat, “I kind of have to worry, considering you won’t tell me what is going on, won’t really talk to me that much at all. Makes me think that if we hadn’t have moved in together, you wouldn’t have even bothered showing up here at the end of your days.” 

That seemed to put some pause in him as well, Arthur remaining silent for a few moments as you could feel your heart pick up a bit upon the thoughts that started to rush into your head. Did he regret moving in with you? Did he really just want to leave? The question that followed seemed to echo those thoughts, putting a terrible pit in your stomach. 

“You regret lettin’ me live with you?” he asked, not lifting his head to look at you as he said it. 

“No?” he returned, shaking your head, “We’d been talking about it for months beforehand, I had a lot of time to consider that. I just…Arthur, if you’re unhappy, you should just tell me. I don’t want to keep you tethered here if you would rather move on.” 

“I’m not lookin’ to move on, it’s not that,” he started, rolling over onto his back as he looked up at the ceiling for a few moments. It was something, at least, making you curl your legs so you could sit properly in bed as you watched his expression. “Hadn’t really noticed how different we are ‘till a couple weeks ago. You always said you were from a city, but guess I never really pictured it before. All those people, your friends, I saw how you were with them and…guess part of me thought I was holdin’ you back.”

“Your response to that was to shut me out?” you asked, Arthur shifting his gaze to meet yours finally as the tightness of your brow softened slightly as you shook your head. Being angry for him for how he reacted to that insecurity? Maybe it wasn’t fair, and you weren’t so much angry as you were a little sad. “You carried that around for so long and didn’t want to tell me? I would have told you exactly what I’m telling you now. I see those people maybe once or twice every couple years, a couple I keep regular contact with through messaging but other than that…I mean, I was as happy to leave as you were by the end of that week.” 

“Guess I thought it would be easier to just close off for a bit. I thought…you couldn’t actually love someone like me, want someone like me after where you came from.” 

“I could say the same to you about me,” you supplied, pausing a moment as you looked over his face a moment before you let out a soft sigh through your nose. “Telling all my friends and family I was moving out into this town in the middle of nowhere, taking my work remotely? I had to tell them a number of times that was what I wanted, and I’m as certain about that as I am about wanting to be with you. I love you, and thinking that you were making room to…leave or that you found someone else, I just…” 

“There’s nobody else,” he confirmed, causing you to glance back toward him at the certainty in his voice and the feeling of his hand warming your lower back through the fabric of your shirt. “I’m sorry, I get so in my damn head sometimes it feels like all I’m thinkin’ is truth. Always been like that, I should’ve…I dunno, stepped back a moment.” 

“You’re more than those thoughts,” you stated, reaching out to run your hand through his hair, a touch he seemed to welcome as it eased not only the tension in his expression but the heaviness in your gut that had developed over the last couple days, “I’m happy with you, Arthur. Very much so. If that ever changes, I will tell you about it. I know I should have been more open about my own thoughts, too.” 

“Not your fault,” he returned with a small shake of his head, “I shouldn’t have shut you out like I did.” 

You let out a small exhale, shifting so you could lean over him and press a kiss to his mouth. Arthur returned it easily, the action pulling a wave of relief through you that you weren’t aware you needed, holding the gesture for a few moments as he cupped the back of your head, wrapping his free arm around your back to press you against him. Parting with a small inhale, you let out a soft huff as you smiled softly. 

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” you continued, looking over his face a moment, “and I really do love you, you know that right?”

“Yeah,” Arthur returned with a soft nod, shifting his head slightly as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“And you are very attractive,” you stated with a quick grin, Arthur letting out a small huff in return. 

“Wouldn’t go that far.”

“I might,” you returned, Arthur, despite his quip, allowing you to drop your head down toward his shoulder as you pressed your mouth against his neck. 

You weren’t too sure where the urge came from, and in that exact moment of all places, but the feeling of his fingers slipping under your shirt to run warm skin against your bare back was enough to make you want to feel it all over. Perhaps it was the well of emotions over the last couple days, or the lack of affection throughout all the doubt, but you really just wanted him to keep going. 

Yet, you had another idea. 

Shifting your hands down a bit, you slipped your hands under the fabric to trail up his stomach slightly as you lifted your head from his neck, Arthur letting out a slow breath as you gathered the hem of his shirt and pushed it upwards slightly. Getting what you were trying to do, Arthur shifted up to help remove his shirt. Both of your movements were a little slow due to the time of day and sleepiness was still lingering, but it seemed like you both were fine with the current turn of events. You brought your head back down to kiss along his exposed shoulder and toward his collarbone as Arthur settled himself back down but didn’t fully lay back down as you felt the prickle of his stubble brush against the side of your head, feeling a hand running along your side before he dropped toward your hip, knowing where he was planning on going with it. Much as you wanted that, you knew he would take the moment to shift the focus more on you. Generous as that was, that wasn’t your plan. 

So, you pulled yourself up a bit, reaching down to gently remove his hand from that part of your body. You didn’t miss the somewhat confused look that crossed his expression, giving him a soft grin and light chuckle. 

“Later,” you said, letting him have his hand back, “I want this to be about you right now.” 

“…You sure?” he asked, “You really don’t have to.” 

“I want you,” you replied, shifting to run your hand along his stomach, stopping near the dip of his inner hip, “and I want to. You had said you were worried I didn’t love or want you anymore, right? I figure I could show you how wrong that thought is. Unless you don’t want me to continue.” 

You lifted your gaze back toward his face at your last statement, taking in his expression for anything that would indicate that he wanted you to back off. Instead, he seemed to be watching you in return with lidded eyes, mouth slightly parted, before he nodded softly. 

“Sure, darlin’, okay. Go ahead.” 

Getting your intention, he seemed to relax somewhat, laying back a little more against the pillows but not fully as you offered him another smile. You moved your hand down between his legs, gently gripping the bulge there over the boxers there that he had worn to bed, the action pulling a quick inhale from him as you pressed and rubbed back against the slight lift of his hips. You palmed and stroked him through the fabric of his boxers for a few moments, before dipping your hand in to grip at his cock. You pumped him a couple times under his underwear for a few moments, the motions pulling a small grunt from him before you were pulling him free once you could feel him growing harder. You continued to stroke him, adding a couple brushes of your thumb along the tip of his cock that caused more twitching of his hips as Arthur started letting out noises that made your stomach tighten lightly and your heart thud. 

Once you started to swipe pre-cum from his cock with your thumb, you released him a moment as you shifted to move further down the bed, shifting the blanket about you a moment before ducking under it a moment to shift under his leg somewhat so you were between his legs, taking his cock back in your hand with another stroke as you glanced up toward him. The sight of his flushed expression as he watched on, his chest rising and falling with his breaths from between his legs was enough to rush heat through your body, settling in your face before you were bending down to run your tongue along the length of his cock. You took the tip into your mouth with a light suck as Arthur dropped his head back down to the pillow with a groan. You shifted your attention to shifting his boxers down his legs further, Arthur shifting his leg and hips somewhat in help before you shifted forward a little more, running a hand along the outside of his thigh. 

Between the shared heat of the blanket and your body heats, it was getting a little uncomfortable but you didn’t care as you took him into your mouth as you squeezed his balls lightly in your free hand. You tried to relax your throat a bit as you took him in deeper, the action pulling a louder groan from him as he rolled his hips up into your mouth somewhat, causing you to draw back a bit before using your free hand to press him back down toward the bed again, message clear. You weren’t sure, but gagging on his dick might ruin the moment some. You continued to bob your head slowly, taking him in deeper each time before pulling back up with a curl of your tongue and hollowing your cheeks. The sounds he was making and controlled shifting of Arthur’s hips had your focus almost swimming as you tried to keep up the same actions. 

Still, you tried not to jump when you felt the blanket shift slightly so Arthur could find your head with his hand, running his fingers along your scalp before he found purchase on the back of your head, starting to follow the direction with the press of his hand and slight rolling of his hips as you tried to keep up the similar actions from before. You were rewarded after a few more moments of this with a few drawn out moans, another hand reaching under the blanket to grip at your shoulder, the feeling of the warm and smooth skin of one of his thighs against your shoulder and head almost making your head swim and want to take this in a more selfish direction. 

“Shit…” he groaned out as you felt his movement starting to pick up a bit in pace and force, the feeling of his hand guiding your mouth down around his cock as he rolled his hips up into the warmth had you letting out a muffled moan. If you had known this whole thing would have ended with Arthur trying to fuck your mouth as gently as he could manage, you may not have felt so torn up about it in the long run. It was a bit of an amusing and dirty thought, but a fleeting one as you continued to bob your head around his cock. Rising up with a couple harder sucks along his length had him moaning and rolling his hips quicker against your mouth, almost threatening to make you gag a bit but your throat was relaxed enough that it was alright for now. 

Thankfully, much as you could tell from the noises he was making and the pace he had set that Arthur wasn’t going to hold on for too much longer. He moaned out your name, warning you he was close as you continued to try to keep at the pace he had set before you felt him tense up, pushing back against the hold his hand had on the back of your head as you felt his cock twitch, opening your mouth a little more as he came with a drawn out groan, fingers tightening against what flesh he could grab. You sucked and tried to swallow down as much as you could, running your tongue along him a moment before you felt him release your head and you were able to separate your mouth from his cock. You swallowed again, feeling a bit of extra heat touch your face as you reached a hand up to wipe the drool and cum from your mouth before you were moving to come out from under the blanket. 

The cool air of the bedroom was welcome as you let out a few heavy breaths, glancing back toward Arthur as he seemed to be calming his own breathing, his face flushed and his gaze bleary as he met yours. With a soft chuckle, you lay down beside him. 

“Been a hot minute since I did that,” you remarked, running a hand through your hair a moment as Arthur nodded slightly beside you. 

“Yeah…” Arthur returned, shifting to roll toward you as he shifted himself up slightly with an arm, “Come here.” 

A part of you was hesitant to let him, considering what you had in your mouth barely a minute ago, but Arthur didn’t seem to care as he pressed his lips to yours in a lazy kiss, parting your lips with his tongue as you ran your hands up his back. Still, much as you knew he would probably want to take you up on the ‘later’ you had mentioned, even Arthur seemed to feel the same exhaustion you felt as he broke the kiss to settle himself down against you. He let out a low rumble from his chest as you traced your fingers against the back of his shoulder, Arthur wrapping an arm around your middle as you settled into his embrace. 

“Thank you,” he started, close to your ear, “For everythin’, not just…” 

“Yeah, I got you,” you said with a soft chuckle, lifting a hand to run through his hair, “I love you, Arthur, I needed you to know that after everything going on in your head.” 

“I love you, too,” he muttered, his arm tightening around your middle slightly, “I’ll pay you back for this soon.” 

“Well, long as you keep this position and sleep a couple hours with me, we’ll consider this settled and you can work on that later.” 

“Sure…” he said around a soft chuckle, sounding like he was well on his way back into sleep as it were. So, you just let out a slow breath, soaking in his warmth and the feeling of his skin as you shut your eyes and let everything fade into the comforting embrace of sleep.


	4. Night Watch (Arthur Morgan/Gender Neutral!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: “Well if you want to maybe a little something with „I can‘t sleep.“/„Can i stay with you?“ and “You’re basically a marshmallow. Perfect for cuddling.” with arthur? :3″
> 
> Summary: Reader returns from the evening patrol on the outskirts of camp when they spot a figure resting against a tree near the cliff edge. 
> 
> Warnings: None.

“Lower the gun, it’s me!”

Your grip on the weapon lessened some at the sound of a familiar accent, the bushes in front of you rustling a minute before the figure of Sean stepped through in the darkness of the area around you. Considering the slowness of the approach, you had been considering an animal or someone sneaking toward you, not the slightly stumbling man that had appeared before you. It appeared he had gotten into the camp’s supply of drink, though you had seen him worse so you figured it wasn’t much. 

“If you could announce yourself next time, it might spare you a bullet.”

“Ooh, you wouldn’t shoot me!” he exclaimed around a quick chuckle, “I bring good news. You’re done for the night.” 

“ _You’re_ covering my spot?” 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he returned, leaning back in (somewhat) mock offense, “Ol’ man Hosea said to come out and let ya back in. Considerin’ the flack he’s been givin’ me, I’m thinkin’ it’s more a punishment for me than some sort of sympathy for you.” 

“Could be both, you never know,” you returned, letting out a small sigh, “Well, if he says so.” 

“Ye of little faith,” Sean stated, taking the repeater from you, “Don’t go puttin’ your trust in me _too quickly_ now…” 

“As you are right now? I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“You’ve been spendin’ too much time with Morgan. He’ll turn you as sour as he is.” 

You made a dismissive sound in the back of your throat, giving Sean a bit of a wave over your shoulder before wandering back up toward camp. You couldn’t do anything about him anyway, and he seemed relatively sober but with how he acts it was hard to tell. Plus…well, you were getting a little tired, staring off into space for anything that seemed out of the normal. On quiet nights like the one that currently surrounded you, that position was absolutely dull. The camp was quiet, most people asleep on their bedrolls or in their tents. Dutch’s already had the tent folds down. Maybe it was later than you thought. Hosea was sat up near a campfire, as you expected, but not many other people. Arthur’s cot was empty, which meant he was somewhere. It wasn’t much of a surprise, he usually was absent from camp these days. Sometimes days at a time. It had come to be something you accepted, much as it was frustrating at points when it came to…whatever it was between you two. Neither of you really weren’t too sure what to call it, much less state a romantic relationship to the rest of the camp. It seemed like the most natural progression of events to you. For now. Still…

You wandered further into camp, stopping to eat something from Pearson’s wagon before making your way over toward where Hosea was sat on a log. 

“Sean seemed…strangely eager to take my place out there,” you commented, causing him to look toward you with raised eyebrows. 

“I wouldn’t confuse that for eagerness…” he commented, “Little wretch needed to do _somethin’_ other than drink tonight.”

Really, you were almost tempted to tell him to go easy on him a bit, but thought better of it. Hosea usually knew what he was doing. You were a little shy to speak up against him, and twice shy with Dutch for obvious reasons. Plus…well, Sean was a bit of a wild card from what you knew of him.

“Well, thank you for giving me a break…” you said, shifting around the back of the log to make your way toward your bedroll. 

“Arthur’s got himself tucked away out near some rocks near the edge of camp,” Hosea said, making you pause to glance back toward him as he looked up toward you. 

_This late?_ “Okay. Why’d I need that information?”

“No reason,” he stated, though his tone gave him away as you found your eyebrows furrowing slightly, “You seem fond of keepin’ him company, figured you might wanna know.” 

“…Well, thanks…” you muttered under your breath, turning to leave fully but you were still close by enough to hear the soft chuckle that left him. 

Despite not wanting to prove his insinuation correct so soon, you did find yourself turning to glance along the edge of camp. It was dark and a little hard to see much, but sure enough you could make out part of a shoulder and a familiar hat. There was a momentary debate within yourself over if you wanted to actually approach him or not. Might have done so to get some privacy for some reason or another, but…well, it wasn’t like you had much time to see him these days anyway. So, you decided to put off going to sleep just yet and wandered over into the bushes and treeline that surrounded camp. You weren’t sure if he was actually asleep like that, though the slight turn of his head toward you made it known that he wasn’t just yet. 

“This can’t be better than your cot…” you commented, tilting your head as he glanced at you fully for a moment before waving his hand slightly. 

“I can’t sleep, so it ain’t much use right now,” he stated, “Thought you was watchin’ camp tonight.” 

“I was, but Hosea sent Sean out instead. Almost shot him when he turned up, he thought it was a good idea to walk up behind me without saying anything…” you muttered, earning a small amused huff from him. “Can I stay with you?” 

“Sure,” he replied with a small shrug. 

The ghost of a grin pulled at your lips at his response. He was playing nonchalant, but you could sort of tell that wasn’t completely true, the arm that wrapped around your shoulders upon sitting down against the tree with him almost confirming that. Arthur was getting a little more natural with that. At the beginning of this whole thing he acted like he didn’t want to touch you, which was a confusing thing to see in relation to his agreement to try to see where this thing between you two went. You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the dull pull behind your eyes toward sleep rather present but you were used to ignoring that from taking the night watches. 

“Nice night…” you said, looking up toward the sky for a moment that was littered with stars that seemed to go on endlessly. With how cloudy and rainy it had been recently, it was nice to see. Arthur let out a low sound of agreement from his throat, a small silence following that was filled with the quiet sounds of the animals and wilderness around you. 

“Any reason you can’t sleep?” you asked, not really looking up at him as you kept your gaze off toward the valley in the distance. 

He let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, _you._ ” 

“Funny,” you returned, giving him a light thump against the side of his leg, “I was being serious.” 

“Ehh…it’s everythin’ and nothin’,” he returned, “Someone’s singin’, walkin’ around, my mind’s goin’ faster than a jackrabbit. Figured it was no use just layin’ there.” 

“I know how that is,” you returned, “there’s a reason I don’t mind guarding so late at night.” 

“I don’t have the patience for that. I’m thinkin’ you ain’t even got any interestin’ stories from the times you took it up.” 

“Unless you count deer, rabbits, the odd person wandering in late at night from whatever they were doin’…” You turned your head to glance up at him pointedly for a moment before settling back against his shoulder, “So I guess not–or, well…” 

“‘Well’ _what?_ ” Arthur shifted slightly, tilting his head down toward where you could see him with some interest. 

“I-It’s nothing _bad_ , just…got the odd couple here in camp and…I can’t blame them, it’s not exactly _private_ in camp sometimes but it’s hard to just leave without giving myself away–”

“Jesus…” Arthur returned around a barely contained chuckle, “Y’know, I’m not gonna ask…”

“I shouldn’t have said anything…”

You both fell into a couple more chuckles before things fell back into that easy silence. It wasn’t the best position for either of you, but leaning against his side like you were it was hard not to feel the heaviness behind your eyelids. Judging from the time, you knew you would be seeing the faint glow of the sun over the trees in a short while. With the soothing noises of the area around you and Arthur’s controlled breathing and warmth, it was no surprise that you found yourself starting to nod off. You managed to catch yourself once or twice, but Arthur’s voice pulled you out of it after a while, your eyes popping open with a heavy blink. 

“You fallin’ asleep?” he asked, pulling a small shrug from you. 

“Can’t be blamed. You’re basically a marshmallow. Perfect for cuddling.”

“Ah, _Christ_ …” he muttered with a quick chuckle that had a small smile pulling at your lips, “With you makin’ me think ‘bout _who’s_ doin’ _what_ in the trees and now _that_ , you’re gonna make me wish I stayed out here alone.” 


	5. Couldn't Leave Well Enough Alone (Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Anonymous requested for a female reader getting jumped outside of camp by some O’Driscolls followed by an intervention by Arthur.

The chorus of cricket song, the slow rush of a light breeze through the grass and trees, along with, thankfully, a quietness from the camp might be enough to put anybody to sleep. However, it seemed like you were among those who weren’t that night.

It wasn’t without trying. Some fitful turning and re-positioning on your bedroll not really giving you enough relief from the wakefulness in your mind. So, eventually you decided to get up from your bedroll and wander toward the edge of Horseshoe Overlook, looking over the cliff edge that looked down into the valley, at the mountains in the distance, and the river that was lightly shimmering in the moonlight.

_It was a perfect night._

So, really, you figured you couldn’t be blamed when you slipped down past where the horses were kept near the edge of camp and walked down toward the river. It was a bit of a walk on foot, but you didn’t want to bother with saddling up your horse for a short ride to look at the water for a bit before heading back. There didn’t appear to be people riding around at such an hour, either, considering you hadn’t seen anybody outside of the odd deer and fox darting back into the bushes when they saw you approach. Stopping by the river, you approached the water to see the small figures of fish darting around under the surface in the light provided by the moon.

You knew it was a bit of a risk. Most of the camp was on edge from Colter, and you were all supposed to be looking for ways to make money, but keeping a low profile. Between the Pinkertons and the O’Driscolls that you had all ran into in the mountains, wandering off from the safety of camp with nothing but your knife to protect you was a bad idea.

Still, taking comfort from the surroundings and the isolation the night brought from other people, you had relaxed enough to wander along the water’s edge, deciding to step out of your shoes to soak your feet and ankles in the cold water. Really, it was easy for your mind to wander back to what you were to do while the gang was settled in their current camp. Colter was a survival situation more than just a camp, it had been easy to just fall back into making sure you didn’t freeze or starve to death and keeping inside where it was warm. However, now? Well, even you were subject to a feeling of restlessness. A lot of people were, Dutch sending out his usual suspects to find what they could about their new area, while you remained in camp to keep up with the usual chores but…

Well, even the camp’s new scenery was getting a little old.

Though, you didn’t get to get caught up in your thoughts and ideas for too long before your ears picked up on the sound of hoof beats. You paused, raising your head up from where you were watching the ripples on the water toward where you could see a small group of riders were heading toward you. Quickly, you stepped out of the water and moved quickly toward the shelter of a nearby tree to watch them approach a little more. They could have just been some late night riders on their way to a town, but as they got closer you could pick up on the accents, could catch the glimpse of green to their outfits.

O’Driscolls.

_…Shit._

Looking around yourself for a few moments, you decided to slip into the overhanging branches of the tree and use the darkness to let them pass by without being noticed. With a slow breath in, you listened as the horses got closer, silently waiting to hear them pass by you as you shut your eyes and prayed for a lack of a confrontation. Yet, it didn’t seem like luck wasn’t on your side.

“Hold on a minute,” one of them said just above where you were standing, “Thought I saw somethin’ over here.”

“Probably a deer, just keep goin’.”

“No, no. There’s boots here. See?”

Instantly, you shut your eyes tighter, pressing your mouth into a thin line as you tried not to cuss yourself out as you heard the horse move closer to the bank before the sound of someone dropping out of the saddle was heard. Letting out a slow breath, you watched as the figure of someone moved toward where you had placed your boots, shifting slowly to remove your knife from where you had it hidden on your person. Waiting until he was far enough down the bank with his back to you, slowly you moved out from the branches of the tree with all the attention on not making any noise.

Your focus was on the man along the bank, getting ready to make a run at him and jump on him, putting your knife into his shoulder or pressing it against his neck. However, as you moved out into the open, your world seemed to still as you heard a gunshot almost right next to your head, the noise pulling a sharp ringing from your ears as you noticed the shot landing right by your feet. Instantly, all eyes were on you standing out in the open on the bank, knife in hand, as the one O’Driscoll kept his pistol raised from where he had shot the ground next to your feet.

“What have we here?” one of them called out with a quick chuckle, the world around you moving with almost blinding speed. The man you were stalking from the tree rounded on you quickly, causing you to back a couple steps before raising the knife up and trying to bring it down upon the shoulder nearest to you.

However, he caught your hand in one of his own, slamming into your middle before you were picked up momentarily before thrown back onto the ground as you were disarmed from your knife.

“Out a little late for a stroll, are we?” one of them sneered, coming up behind you as you scrambled backward, gripping your forearm in a vice grip as you were hauled to your feet.

“She looks like a fun one,” the man next to you commented, pulling back twice as hard against the struggle you made to get away from him. You could feel your shoulder protest lightly against the counter weight, the movement threatening to pull it out of place.

Your eyes moved around to the faces of the O’Driscolls, one holding your own knife out in the moonlight as he approached, the one who shot you still remaining on his horse as he glanced around himself a moment.

“Wait…” he said, speaking up loud enough to cause the other men to pause. So, you knew who the little leader of this outfit was. “She’s out here alone…not too far from Six Point where that shootin’ happened…”

“The hell you talkin’ about…” the man in front of you growled, watching as the other man got down off his horse. You could feel your arm twisted around to be pinned painfully against your back, earning you some more struggle as you twisted and tried to buck your head back to hit his in some way, yet he was keeping his distance from where you could hit him.

“ _Get out of the damn way_ …” he snapped as he walked toward you, shoving the man in front of you aside as you tried to slow your breathing as he looked you over a moment.

“So, you’re alone out here, aren’t you? Why?”

“I just wanted to get some air,” you stated, trying not to trip over your words, “I don’t like getting snuck up on, some dangerous men around these parts.”

“No horse…” he observed, “No houses nearby…”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

Your words were cut short when his hand shot out, gripping tightly at your neck. With your free hand you gripped tightly at his wrist in return, the hold on your arm behind your back tightening as you could start to hear the blood rushing in your ears. You could vaguely make out the look in his eyes and a bit of teeth peering out from the curl of his lips in a snarl.

“You’re a damn Van der Linde, ain’t you?”

“I–” you started, letting out a choked sound at the tightening around your throat.

“ _One chance._ Where’s your camp?”

“Ahh, they’re all loyal bastards. Just kill ‘er, we’ll find it someplace nearby. Get ‘em all while they sleep.”

You could barely register what they were saying after that, feeling the pressure in your face from lack of air and the fingers digging hard into the flesh of your neck as you tried uselessly to twist in the grip they had you. They were going to kill Dutch? Good luck. However, in the moment, you were more focused on the feeling of the stars starting to appear in your vision as they continued to argue, that hold on your neck not holding up. _This is it. This is how it was going to end. You were going to get strangled to death by some O’Driscolls because you just wanted to stand in the river under the moonlight._

However, as you could feel your body starting to panic at the feeling of your lungs going without air for too long, you noticed one of the O’Driscolls fall on the ground, blood seeping from his head. Instantly, the sound of gunfire filled the air as the man in front of you tossed you aside and onto the ground quickly. Instantly, you took in a deep raspy gasp of air as more fighting happened around you. You glanced up to see one of the men holding his stomach, trying to make a move for your knife. Moving almost without thinking, you scrambled for the knife and stabbed him in the chest. Once, twice, before he collapsed on the ground as you pulled the knife from his gut. Blinking heavily, you backed away as he lay on the ground, not moving.

Though, upon hearing quick footfalls heading in your direction, you turned almost blindly, bringing the knife up and swung it down. However, a quick hand grasped around your wrist, your teeth gritting against the ringing in your ears and beating in your heart until finally it sounded like the world reappeared around you.

“Damn it– _it’s me! Calm down!_ ”

The gruff voice that filled your ears was like a slap to the face, reality locking into place as you realized it wasn’t another O’Driscoll in front of you but your gang’s enforcer, Arthur Morgan, who was holding your wrist tightly to keep you from stabbing him with the knife.

“…Shit,” you gasped, blinking heavily a bit before deciding to drop the knife as you raised another hand up. Arthur let go of your wrist at the gesture, causing you to step back and place a hand against your neck at the ache there.

“The hell’re you doin’ out here?” he snapped, his tone causing you to flinch slightly before shaking your head.

“Just…left camp for a bit. Thought nobody’d be out here but some O’Driscolls rode by.”

“In case you ain’t noticed, we got Pinkertons _and_ O’Driscolls both lookin’ for us,” Arthur replied as you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, “Can’t go a _damn day_ without some sorta drama.”

“It’s not my fault they couldn’t just leave a woman alone on the shore of a river!” you snapped back, turning to look toward him, “In case _you_ didn’t notice, they were _strangling the life out of me!_ ”

“ _I know!_ ” he returned, his voice raised before he seemed to take in a breath, “Damn it, I know. I saw.”

“If y’all hadn’t gone a shot up Six Point Cabin on some _dead end_ , it wouldn’t have happened. So _save it._ ”

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault?”

“It’s…no. It’s not. I just…I need a minute. I just need a damn minute…”

You turned from him to stumble over toward a rock, almost falling down to sit on it as you rubbed at your neck. You could already faintly make out the bruising on your wrist, the blood between your fingers. Looking down, you could see the mud and dirt that covered your bare feet. You let out a short sound that started as a laugh before the motion started to pull out some sobs from you, tears brimming in your eyes before you shut your eyes as they slipped out down your cheeks. The rage at the short confrontation dissolved into almost a scared relief as you let out the tension in your body. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at the display, bringing your arms up across your chest to grip at your shoulders.

“…I’m sorry,” Arthur said around a sigh, stepping over one of the O’Driscolls that lay on the bank of the river. You took in a shuddering breath as you tried to pull yourself back in, Arthur placing a hand on your back before he was bending down to pick up your knife. “ _Me and my damn mouth_ …”

“I was starting to blackout,” you muttered around a quick inhale, “I thought I was going to die.”

“It’s over. C’mon, let’s get your boots and head back to camp.”

Arthur was, admittedly, a little too short and to the point to be all that comforting in the moment, but you did take some comfort at the solid hand on your back and the idea of returning back to the safety of camp. Much as your appearance and bruises in the morning would raise a lot of questions.

“Okay…” you muttered, raising up on somewhat uneven footing before making your way toward your boots. “I don’t know what to do about all of…” _The bodies._

“We get outta here quick, nobody’ll know it’s us,” Arthur returned, earning you a small sigh and nod as you moved back toward him once you had stepped back into your shoes. He climbed up onto his horse, reaching down to help you up onto the back before starting the short ride back to camp as you could see the sky growing a little lighter.

It would have been a great sight if everything hadn’t happened the way it did. However, instead, you were riding back into camp with bruises around one of your wrists and arms and around your neck. You pressed your forehead against the middle of Arthur’s back, gritting your teeth in frustration.

“I feel like a fool,” you muttered, feeling your eyes starting to sting, “Should’ve known there’d be no hope to have something peaceful for a night. Things had been feeling too good.”

“Can’t say I disagree with you there…” Arthur muttered, feeling his voice rumble against his back for a moment before you lifted your head, “But they…they could’ve been decent. Left well enough alone. I could’ve…not _yelled_ at ya while you was obviously still thinkin’ you was under attack.”

“No, I damn well deserved that.”

“No…c’mon,” Arthur returned, sounding somewhat awkward but he slowed his horse, “I’m sorry ‘bout that. I am. Weren’t right, but…I need to tell Dutch what happened, but I can maybe get him to keep Grimshaw from botherin’ you come sunrise so you can get some rest.”

“…Okay,” you returned, not liking the fact that Dutch had to know, but you could understand why. It was a hop, skip, and a jump from camp. “Thank you.”

“Sure. Wish I could’ve got there sooner. Heard some distant gunshot, didn’t think much of it until I realized I was close to camp.”

“I would have died if you didn’t, so I say you arrived just in time…”

Arthur seemed to let that go and he rode his horse into camp and slipped off it to hitch it, helping you down from the back of his horse. You landed a little harshly, still somewhat weak from what happened. However, despite yourself, you leaned sideways to slip a quick arm around his middle in a half-hug.

“Really, thank you,” you muttered, “I thought that was…”

“You’re one of us, we look out for each other,” he returned, patting your shoulder lightly before you stepped back to give him some space before wandering forward into camp with him toward where Dutch appeared to be stepping out of his tent.


	6. Should Have Seen It From the Start (Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Anon requested an Arthur/fem!Reader where he tries to set her up with a “good man” in town and things don’t go as expected.

This whole thing was just making you feel worse as the days went along, but this had come to a head.

Really, you felt like you should be enjoying the relatively peaceful stay in the area (at least, as peaceful as the gang could be) but this whole situation you found yourself in was souring the situation. It was hard to explain exactly how or why you decided to let it go to where it was. There had been a good amount of frustration, you had to admit, and…well, perhaps there was a touch of loneliness in there. How many times had you tried to clue him into how you were feeling? The number of times where it seemed like he had known but would then do something to toss that feeling out of the window? Seeing him with different people and wondering why it was never you?

You had argued with yourself several times about having to move on from it.

It was stupidly painful to deal with, and Daniel Lovette was probably one of the nicer men you had run into. If not the nicest, at least to you.

He was the son of the local fence, which gave you more than enough time to run into him when turning up with your (stolen) goods that wouldn’t do well in the general store. Considering the gang’s current plan of laying low, most of the money you did bring in was stolen jewelry and goods robbed from sleepy homesteads. The first few times, he had just given you a couple of nods and greetings when you would show up at his father’s still side business, which eventually led to a couple of conversations and…well, it seemed like he actually cared for your company these days. Returning to camp at that point was a different world. They were outlaws, you knew you would never quite fit in with the society that surrounded the gang. Still, it had been enough of a home for some time, but Arthur was always a bit of a source of frustration for you.

It had started slow, and you were somewhat used to him running a bit hot and cold. Sometimes it felt like you were as close as you knew the two of you were, then he would distance himself for some reason or another, before coming back around again. You got rather sick of the dance at points, but you hadn’t done much to put a stop to it. Hell, you had found yourself doing the same at points, almost as if you were following his lead.

During those points, you thought about maybe just saying something and getting it out in the open. That it could be dealt with instead of being this unspoken thing that you hoped would be mutual. You knew some of the women in camp had seen right through it and your dismissals. There had been some support in the beginning, but it wasn’t hard to see how they were growing frustrated with your refusal to address anything.

However, you knew you were scared. You knew Arthur enough to know he wouldn’t toss the admission back into your face, but…well, it could ruin things. The thoughts made you feel childish at points–you were both grown adults, you could handle talking truthfully. Yet, everything remained shut behind your teeth.

Yet, with all of that sitting on your conscious and Arthur switching back into his brand of cold shoulder (that it wasn’t one fully, you had noticed over time, but enough of one to get the message across) you had found yourself spending more time with Daniel.

However, it wasn’t hard to notice what he was looking for after a while. He wasn’t malicious or forceful about it, but there was a bit of hope in his eyes when you would give him more attention. At that point, you had started to wonder if it would be worth seeing where that went.

Which had felt like the beginning of the downward spiral of the situation.

Daniel knew who you were, what you did. He may not have been running his father’s business, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what with the fence seeing a number of people from different walks of life and he had been pretty intuitive in regards to what path you currently walked. The more you spent time with him, the more you thought about staying with him. He was understanding, too, having just gone through a rough courtship himself and it allowed you two to grow closer. Some of the gang members had seen the way you two interacted during the odd points where you were in town with someone (Daniel giving some subtly, thankfully.)

You should have expected word to get back to camp in some way, but people developing relationships out of it had happened in the past. Arthur was a prime example.

So it was damn confusing when Daniel had approached you one day at the fence, his tone curious yet his expression seemed somewhat troubled.

_“This is gonna seem like an odd question, but do you got a brother or something?”_

_“Brother? No…”_

_“Well, I had been thinking along those lines because I just got cornered by someone who said he was lookin’ out for you.”_

_You had straightened up at that point. “What did he look like?”_

_“Ah, I dunno…taller than me somewhat, tan leather jacket, black hat.”_

That had caused your stomach to clench, hands balling into fists. Oh, you had a good idea of who Daniel was talking about, you just didn’t want to believe it. Was that supposed to be some sweet gesture on Arthur’s part? All it did was make your blood boil somewhat.

_“Don’t worry about him,” you had said after a moment, “I’ll deal with him.”_

It was easier said than done, considering how Arthur had seemed to go right on the defensive about it. There had been some arguing back and forth about what you thought you were doing. (You really wished you had a solid answer to that at the time, but you had brushed it off easily enough.) How Arthur didn’t fully trust the guy, that you were putting the gang at risk by getting involved with someone outside of it. That it would cost them the peace they had found at the moment.

The last comment had made you scoff, your mouth somewhat parted in disbelieve.

_“Oh, you’ve had no issue doing so yourself!” you had snapped, “I didn’t get involved once in your relationships but suddenly it’s fine when it’s mine? I am just supposed to watch you do the same and just stay miserable?”_

The last question had been a bit of a slip up on your part, but it had been enough to keep Arthur from retorting as a somewhat confused look crossed his face. However, you had just pressed your lips into a thin line before turning and walking back off into camp. You had been expecting him to call after you with how quick he had been to jump into an argument when Daniel had been mentioned, but he had stayed away from you that evening and, for once, you hadn’t minded.

Things had seemed to subside after that, Arthur almost stepping right out of your business and getting caught up in the gang’s. It was a bit of a relief, honestly, giving you some time to figure this thing out. Yet, things didn’t quite seem to feel like they fit. Daniel was a sweet man, but something was keeping you back. It felt like it was gnawing at the back of your mind, leaving you taking steps back for each Daniel tried to take forward. It wasn’t hard to see where he wanted things to go, and…well, you had stuck up for the idea of that, hadn’t you?

Really, the more you thought about it, the more you realized it was the hypocrisy of it all that had you angrier than some attempt to block an opportunity.

The whole situation twisted and sat heavily in your gut as guilt made its way to the forefront of your mind.

You had to admit to yourself, and more importantly Daniel, that there wasn’t there. If it were the feelings you had for Arthur that lingered just out of reach with how far you had shoved them down, or if Daniel just wasn’t the right person, you weren’t sure.

However, it wasn’t right.

The memory of you telling him so still sat heavily on your mind as you sat on the top of your horse, riding rather slowly back toward camp as you could feel a tightness in your throat and in your chest. Daniel had taken it well for the most part, and you knew it could have gone worse if you had forced anything on your part, yet something he had said was lingering on your mind.

_“If it’s because of that gang of yours, and I don’t know if it’ll make any difference, but that guy that threatened me before had come back to apologize about it and…guess he wished us luck? I mean, he looked conflicted about it, but I kind of expected that given the aggression before, but…”_

You had been quick to assure him that it wasn’t because you were worried about what others thought, but rather something you weren’t feeling. Yet, his words kept circling in a way Daniel likely didn’t intend. Really, it felt like you were suffocating with the heat of the area and the way your mind seemed to be turning things over. A part of you felt like you were shooting yourself in the foot with a chance to get over this thing with Arthur, yet a more certain and louder part silenced that with the fact that you didn’t feel anything really there. You knew he would make someone very happy one day, but that person wasn’t going to be you.

Now it was just the strange feeling that had cropped up at what Arthur had supposedly told him.

Really, you just…needed to tell him.

Even if it went nowhere or you had been reading this whole thing wrong, it would at least allow you to close the book instead of leaving it open to glance back at whenever you thought about courting someone.

The day was starting to bleed into late afternoon by the time you had arrived back at camp, your mind a jumbled mess but you were certain of the goal you had in mind. You hitched your horse and glanced around the area, the camp lively with the usual amount of activity for that time of day. However, you noticed Arthur was, thankfully, writing in his journal under the canvas of his wagon. The sight of it put a nervous twist to your gut, causing you to pause somewhat in your approach.

 _Damn it, c’mon,_ a voice in the back of your mind hissed. It had you continuing to move as you decided to shove the feeling down for now.

Arthur glanced up at your approach, resting his pencil against the page as you came to a stop just under the canvas.

“We need to talk,” you stated, the words pulling a somewhat tense expression from him as he shut his journal.

“‘Bout what?” he asked as you crossed your arms, glancing down toward the ground.

“Some things I have been thinking about, I guess,” you replied, glancing back up at him, “About Daniel and…you.”

“ _Me?_ What’s that got to do with me?”

“It’s…it’s not something I want to talk about here. Come for a walk with me, will you?”

“Guess I got no choice…” Arthur muttered as he tucked his journal into his satchel, rising from his cot as you turned to walk toward the edge of camp.

The area was dry and hot, camp settling in a place that at least offered some form of shade from the trees but it wasn’t too much. So, you had wandered far enough out until you found a rock near a tree, far enough away from prying eyes and the heat wouldn’t stifle you any further. Really, you just wanted to spit it out but…well, you wanted to handle it better. Get some read on the situation from him before you took any sort of leap.

“You gonna tell me what’s gotten into you?” Arthur asked once you had stopped walking, causing you to raise an eyebrow toward him.

“Me? I’m not the one watching after your relationships.”

“…That man can’t keep a damn conversation to himself, can he?”

“Not when it’s about me, apparently.”

He shifted a little closer to you, stepping under the shade of the tree as you looked out at the area around you both.

“How’s that goin’, anyway?”

You let out a small scoff at the question, but the touch of amusement didn’t stay as you glanced over at him before shrugging.

“It’s not going anywhere,” you replied, leaning back against the tree trunk as you crossed your arms, “He fancies me, but…guess I’m not all that interested in him. Where romance is concerned, at least.”

“So all them dramatics, they were for nothin’?”

“No, it got you to wise up,” you returned, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “I had also been hoping that something would come out of it so I could…well.”

“I still ain’t so sure how this involves me,” Arthur said as you let out a steadying sigh.

“Why’d you bother?” you asked, “Getting involved like you did. I know you said you didn’t trust the guy, but have you been doing what you did for the other people in camp?”

“I saw you two in town once,” he replied, letting out a sigh, “Guess I just…didn’t like the look of him, wanted to see what he was ‘bout.”

“He’s a good guy,” you assured, “Just…too good for me, I suppose.”

“That ain’t true, you’re one of the better ones out of us here,” Arthur stated, causing your heart to thump hard in your chest as you pressed your lips together before letting out a small chuckle.

“No offence, but that’s in comparison to the company I keep.”

“Sure, but…I dunno.”

“I told him I couldn’t do what he was hoping from me,” you replied, shifting as you glanced toward him, “Would’ve been nice, but…I think I’m still caught up in something.”

“Caught up?”

“Arthur…” you started, letting out another breath. It was now or never. “When it comes to things like that, I feel like I’m running into a wall because…I have feelings for you. I have for a…long time.”

Really, it was hard to hold his gaze as you spoke, dropping it away as you looked back off into the distance as you awaited his reaction. Though, you had to admit that the words had some weight to them, considering the light feeling that settled in your chest upon saying them.

You had been frustrated about carrying it around for so long, the feelings, the thoughts, even the odd dream. A part of you wasn’t sure how long ago they had started, perhaps when you were younger even, but…well, things were complicated. You had legitimately thought it wouldn’t happen at points for reasons outside of the courage to admit to it.

“Me?” he asked after a moment, causing you to finally look back at him, “You’re tellin’ me this Daniel’s too good for you, but I’m sayin’ _you’re_ too good for the likes of me.”

“Well, I can return your argument against my own thoughts about that,” you said, “If you’re going to try to talk me out of these feelings I’ve been carrying for years over just telling me you don’t return them, I wish you would do that instead.”

There was another pause as you let your response linger between the two of you, your heart hammering away in your chest now as you just hoped he would give you some sort of answer. At that point, you didn’t care what it was outside of it being some sort of answer to an unsaid question that had been sitting for quite some time.

_Do you feel anything for me?_

“I ain’t a jealous man, but…part of me was scared at the idea of you leavin’. I knew that much, but the idea that it was for someone who…well, I can’t lie and say I ain’t had somethin’ for you for a while too, but…I always thought you could do better than me. You _can_ do better than me.”

“You could let me decide that for myself…” you returned, shifting so that you weren’t leaning against the tree, standing before him with that damn fluttering in your chest and stomach.

Arthur didn’t say anything in return, meeting your gaze with more intensity than he had been giving you throughout the conversation. There was a part of you that feared you might be reading the situation wrong, that taking a step toward him was the wrong move, but with the pause and the flicker of his gaze about your face, you found yourself chancing it. You reached a hand up and cupped his cheek, feeling the light prickle of his stubble that was growing out somewhat these days, Arthur accepting the touch after a moment.

You leaned up and pressed your mouth against his in a light kiss, ready to pull back if things didn’t seem right, but you felt his arms wrapping around your back. He pressed you against him as you pressed a more firm kiss against his lips, slipping your hands up into his hair and around his neck, Arthur pressing back into the kiss as you did so. Your mind seemed to relax for a few moments, taking in the feeling of his lips against yours and his hold.

Though, eventually, you found yourself pulling back somewhat as the need for air seemed to press into the forefront of your mind. However, Arthur didn’t release his hold, and you didn’t back all that far away from him as you pressed your forehead against his own.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for…longer than I care to admit,” you muttered, letting out a soft chuckle as you saw a small grin pull at Arthur’s lips.

“…Me, too,” he returned, your gaze meeting his own in the closed-in space between you, “I’m sorry I’ve been actin’ a fool, I just…”

“You’re not the only one,” you replied, shifting your hands down to rest on his shoulders, “I should have been more honest with you and myself.”

Arthur let out a small sound in the back of his throat, not much in agreement but you didn’t pick up much disagreement from it. However, you didn’t read too much into it, not knowing where his head was at most of the time, but you were glad you got to know this.

Looking into his eyes, and knowing very well it would be a fun time to address this with camp after everything, you couldn’t find yourself regretting the choice to finally say the words.


	7. Some Dime Novel Fate (Arthur Morgan/GN!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Anon sent “Your writing is really good! If you can, once you’re feeling alright, could you write an arthur x reader where the reader comes back from a job badly injured and Arthur flips while Grimshaw takes care of her/them? ♥️”

_“I’m just thinkin’ this job ain’t a good idea, doesn’t sound like it’s thought out.”_

_“It doesn’t sound too bad to me.”_

_“I just gotta bad feeling ‘bout it…”_

_“You wanna give me a little trust here, Arthur?”_

Your knees hit the ground, the pain that ripped through your side causing you to curl in on yourself a little.

It was strange, some parts of you felt numb while others were throbbing with sharp pain. Still, finally, you were where you needed to be. If it was early morning or early evening, you couldn’t really tell, some heavy fog lingering around the path into camp.

You knew you were a sight to see, your clothes stained with dirt and, more concerning, a deep red on the left side of your shirt, drying to your skin where your blood stained fingers touched. That job was terrible, and if you weren’t so exhausted, you might have felt even a little angry about the fact that one of the times you challenged Arthur, he turned out to be right. It had just been some sort of stage, the amount of guards suggested to you not really making you as nervous as you should have been.

Splitting off might have been a mistake, too, considering you had to take matters into your own hands, even when a bullet had ripped into your side and the dead weight of your horse nearly pinned you to the ground. It hadn’t happened too far from camp, thankfully, though the walk back felt like it took forever with your wounds. You had been waiting for the point where your legs gave out, though you were grateful that it wasn’t too far from where you could get help.

With a grunt, you gathered yourself to a stand again, pressing your hand against your injured side as you tried to ignore the world swaying lightly around you. Though, thankfully, you didn’t have to walk too far before you heard a familiar voice.

“Who is that?”

Karen.

“It’s me,” you said, stepping forward as you could see her stepping out from beside a rock. “I’m not…doing too good.”

“Christ…” she replied, lowering her weapon as she stepped toward you, “We was startin’ to get worried. C’mon.”

You accepted her help by pulling your arm over her shoulder, leaning your good side against her own somewhat as you let her help you walk further into camp. The pain was really starting to kick in as a familiar place took the focus away from just moving, each step pulling a sharp pain from the bullet wound. You knew Karen was talking, saying something to you, but it was a little hard to focus.

“Grimshaw! Anybody? Need some help over here,” she called once you could see the tents and wagons.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long before the woman in question seemed to approach you both, much on time as you could feel your body starting to beg you to rest. It was a bad idea, considering your blood stained hand still pressed tightly to your side, dripping into fabric still damp with blood, and most of your weight resting against Karen’s side.

“What the hell happened?”

“I dunno,” Karen replied, helping you find your feet again a bit, “Just came in here, covered in blood.”

“Job went bad…” you started, letting out a heavy breath, “Got shot. It ripped into my side, don’t know if it’s still in there.”

“Well, c’mon,” Grimshaw said, shifting around to your other side. You let out a short yell at the feeling of her pulling your free arm over her shoulder, stretching your side and blossoming a sharp pain. However it seemed like your cries fell on deaf ears in the moment.

“Abigail, we’re going to use your tent,” she continued, seeming to be talking to people around you, but you were focused on keeping your legs moving along with Karen and Susan. “I need somethin’ to treat a gunshot wound and the space and privacy to do it. Oh, and someone _please_ tell Mr. Morgan before he takes off on his own after nothin’.”

The tent offered some small shade from the sun as you were led into it, a small sigh escaping you as you were sat down on the cot in there. It was hard to focus on much, exhaustion ebbing into your bones very quickly now that everything and everybody was familiar to you, much as Susan’s voice was rather stern and urgent. You needed to stay awake for a while longer, if only to make sure she wasn’t working on you while you were passed out and bleeding onto the Marston’s cot.

Maybe if only to see Arthur so you could tell him you should have listened to him.

Thankfully, however, it wasn’t long before Susan was back in the tent in front of you as she worked on removing your shirt enough to get access to the wound. You took in a deep breath, clenching your teeth as she prodded around a moment before she spoke up.

“Well, there’s a wound back here too,” she muttered, “Means nothin’s still in there. I’ll just close them up and hope that’s all you need.”

“…Is Sean okay?” you asked as you reached down a hand to hold the side of your shirt up as Susan worked on getting the sutures ready.

“Oh, that fool is just fine. You’re the only one hurt here.”

That was a bit of a relief at least.

You had split up on the job, hoping to separate and lose those who were pursuing you. However, it seemed like you were the one who got the sharpshooter of the bunch. You could remember the sound and the fire that had ripped into your abdomen at the impact of the bullet, trying to ignore it in favor of continuing to ride on, but the second bullet had your horse falling out from under you.

You hated to think about it–and you didn’t have to.

Fresh pain broke into your thoughts as you felt Grimshaw starting to close up one of the wounds. You let out a low sound, almost a smothered shout held back by your teeth as you tightened your jaw and focused on the tent flaps in front of you. You could feel each one– _one, two, three, four…_

“This got you any more to the left and this would be beyond any help of mine,” she commented as she finished with the entry wound, “I know you all really do think of me as some _doctor_ , but…”

“Y-You do what you can,” you replied, shifting to turn around so she could start closing up the one on your back.

“Well, least you’re coherent…” she said, making you clench your teeth again at the feeling of the starts of another suture.

“It’s getting hard to be,” you replied–though, the pain was helping in chase off the sleepy feelings but you knew they would be back once she had you bandaged.

“We’re almost done,” she commented, “Though, I would try to hold out a bit so Arthur can see you’re okay. I think he had half the mind to strangle Mr. McGuire in camp when he said you had split up and it had been a couple hours since he’d last seen you…”

“I’m probably going to get some sort of talk too,” you said, trying to keep your voice even as she continued to close your remaining wound, “He’d warned me about the whole thing.”

“Probably should have listened to him…” Susan commented, almost as an aside to herself but it was hard to miss.

You didn’t say anything in reply to that, allowing her to finish up before she was wrapping a bandage around your torso. The treating of it, finally, brought some comfort. It didn’t remove the pain of it, but it was enough to have you relax some as you pulled your shirt back down. Grimshaw got up, muttering something about washing her hands, though it seemed as she was leaving, someone had been walking steadily toward the tent.

Letting out a sigh, you shifted to sit further back on the cot, not wanting to risk laying down at the moment. Your gaze lifted as a familiar face appeared at the tent flaps, the sight of Arthur filling you with a relief you weren’t aware you had been waiting for.

Meant the whole thing was over, or you were out of danger at least.

“Christ…” he muttered, stepping into the tent as you offered him a small grin that didn’t quite touch your eyes. “Scared the hell outta me, darlin’.”

“I know. Grimshaw was pretty quick to send someone to find you before you left on some goose chase…” you replied, gingerly wrapping your arm around your torso somewhat, “Sorry about that.”

“You’re not the one who got away unharmed, runnin’ his way back into camp with his tail between his legs,” Arthur said, shaking his head.

“It’s not Sean’s fault, I was the one who wanted to split up.”

“Then you’re _both_ fools.”

“Yeah, probably,” you replied with a small sigh, fighting back a grimace at the sharp throbbing near your wounds–probably would be bruised to hell in a bit, too. “My horse is gone, too. Nearly got pinned under him and…well, that’s why it took so long to get back here.”

Despite the initial confrontational tone, it was hard to miss the shift in his demeanor as he let out a small sigh through his nose.

“Sorry,” he said, “‘Bout your horse and everythin’ else.”

“…I should have trusted your judgement,” you replied, dropping your gaze somewhat. “Might’ve…”

“I can be wrong,” he stated around a small huff, “Often _am._ Can’t do nothin’ ‘bout it now, just…you’re alive, that’s all that matters.”

“…Come here,” you said after a moment, gesturing toward yourself lightly with a hand.

You were used to seeing some hesitation from Arthur, and weren’t exactly surprised to see it now. Still, eventually he stepped a little closer toward the cot, holding your hand up somewhat until he caught your meaning as he bent down far enough for you to press a quick kiss to his mouth. It was one you held for a few moments, exhaustion sitting heavily in your actions much as you knew the pain would make for an uncomfortable sleep.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, alright?” you said after you broke away from the kiss, dropping your hand to his shoulder for a moment as he pulled back, “I’ll be more careful.”

Arthur gave a small sound of acceptance from in his chest, stepping back to allow you to try to get comfortable. You weren’t sure if you were staying in the Marston’s tent for the night, but it didn’t seem like anybody was in too much of a rush to get you out.

“Get some rest,” Arthur muttered, the ghost of a grin touching his face, “Knowin’ you, you’re gonna hate bein’ bed ridden tomorrow but ya need it.”

“…Just don’t kill Sean,” you said after a moment, “Tonight, at least. I’m sure he feels plenty guilty about it.”

“No promises.”


	8. From That Night (Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: “could i request the reader finding out she’s pregnant and trying to tell arthur" 
> 
> Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of vomiting, talk of child death, some angst.

This really was happening. **  
**

Valentine’s hotel didn’t have the most glorious bath, but it was usually enough. However, in the moment, it felt suffocating. The humid air from the hot water of the bath, the smell of soap, and you couldn’t stop staring at yourself in the mirror. You had got your pants and boots back on, the first few buttons of your shirt buttoned but you had stopped halfway down. 

It had been a good couple days since you had been waking up in the early morning, quickly trying to rise to a stand and trying not to disturb the other people around you before stumbling off toward the edge of camp to empty the contents of your stomach from the night before. You had been getting more and more tired, you were usually pretty composed but you had found yourself in yelling matches over the pettiest of things around camp. 

Abigail caught on, trying to bring the subject up once before you snapped at her, denying the possibility of it. Over and over to yourself, you denied it. You didn’t want it to be true, so it wasn’t. For a while, at least. You still went out riding, you still did jobs, but you also still had that sickness in the mornings and sometimes during dinner after getting too close to the pot. Pearson was ribbed enough for his cooking, but the savory smell of meat and broth mixed in a strange way sometimes and–well, you had heard the odd tease about someone finally puking over just the smell of his food. 

You couldn’t deny it forever, and rubbing a hand gently over the firmness of your stomach that had started to fill out more somewhat–well, you couldn’t. 

With a shaky sigh, you buttoned the rest of your shirt, slipping the vest on before heading back out toward your horse. It wasn’t that big of a bump yet, you knew with clothes on it was very hard to tell, but in the moment you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You wandered over toward your horse, climbing into her saddle before starting to make a somewhat slow trot back to camp. 

_We’re gonna have to tell him._

You dreaded that terribly. If you had some way to bend time and go back to that night, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. You and Arthur had been walking around the subject of your attraction to each other for quite some time–you had been around while Mary was in his life, and the aftermath of that. Many months you had dealt with the on and off feelings you had toward him, stepping off when it seemed like he wasn’t interested anymore, stepping back in when it felt like there was a chance. 

That night had been awkward, and you had been turning it over in your head for a while. A sort of hunting trip, getting food for the pot, and resting under the stars. There had been a tiny bit of sharing of whiskey, and somehow you both had managed to play into your mutual loneliness for a night. The morning after had settled that awkward feeling in you, nobody wanting to talk about it, despite pulling clothes back on. Arthur got distant after, and you had kicked yourself for it. Sometimes you regretted it, sometimes you didn’t. A couple nights you had even wished it happened again, though knowing what was happening you had to wonder if that was part of it. Now _this?_

“Shit,” you cursed, letting out a breath as you continued to ride upon your horse at the slow pace. 

If that was how Arthur was going to deal with that, you had no idea how he would deal with what you had to tell him. 

It had been a couple months, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. The distance had closed a bit, things felt somewhat normal until…well. Perhaps Arthur didn’t know things had changed, but you knew clear as day now. Visiting the doctor had confirmed it, that odd look in his eye when he saw your stomach like he figured _you_ of all people should already know his answer. It had pushed you right back into denial, the bath letting you forget it for a moment but it was back as soon as you were out. 

_We need to tell him._

You didn’t want to agree with the voice, but it was becoming all the more pressing. You could only hide it for so much longer before it was apparent that you were carrying someone’s child, and he might as well know it’s his. 

Still, the arrival back to camp had your nerves shot, your horse fidgety as you tried to feed him and let out a couple slow breaths against the tightness in your chest. You stayed there for a couple minutes, petting your horse well beyond the point where he needed it to calm down. It had been enough for you not to notice the footfalls coming up behind you, a small jump escaping you at a familiar voice. 

“Everythin’ alright with you, dear?”

Grimshaw was probably the last person you were expecting to see, her expression concerned and somewhat softer than you were expecting. A part of you just wanted to say yes, that nothing was wrong, just something off you ate. Yet, your mouth had gone dry, your hands clenching as they shook lightly at your sides. 

“…I don’t know what to do,” you replied lowly, almost a whisper before you took in a shaking breath. “Miss Grimshaw, what do I do?” 

“C’mon,” she replied, approaching you somewhat carefully as she placed a hand behind your shoulders and moved you toward where some of the bails of hay for the horses were sat.

“Just sit down a minute,” she continued, helping you sit down with your weak legs. “…You don’t gotta tell me, I’ve been on this earth for some time. Ain’t hard to miss the signs after a while.” 

“I didn’t want this to happen,” you muttered, pressing your hands over your eyes, “I was being stupid, didn’t think it could for a while.” 

“Well, I ain’t gonna lie to you and say it’s the _smartest_ thing you could’ve done,” Susan replied, that familiar stern tone sitting behind the somewhat calm one she had in the moment, “You know whose it is?”

“…Arthur’s,” you replied, somehow feeling like a big weight had lifted while it also came settling right back down as you finally said it out loud. 

“… _Arthur?_ ” Grimshaw asked somewhat slowly, like she didn’t believe you as you let out a short huff. 

“Yes, believe it or not,” you replied, “It was a couple months ago during a hunting trip. We haven’t talked about it since.” 

“Have you told him yet?”

“No,” you said somewhat thickly, “I don’t know if I even want to.” 

“Don’t matter if you _want_ to,” she replied, somewhat clipped, “You can tell him as it’s happenin’ now or you can start showin’ more and let the camp try to piece it together. One’s better than the other.” 

“…I know,” you replied with a sigh, “Oh, _I know._ I just…I don’t know how he’s going to react.” 

“Well, you can’t keep hidin’ it from him.”

She was right, and the idea of letting the camp make a game out of guessing the father sounded like a nightmare. Especially if the truth came out that way. 

“I’ll tell him,” you replied, sounding somewhat resigned. “Tonight if I have to.”

* * *

With how your nerves were, you spent another dinner sitting somewhat solitary at the edge of camp, food slowly going cold after you had forced down a couple bites. With how long you had been keeping this a secret, you knew you had plenty of time to beat yourself up over it. Yet, with the truth out and having someone outside of yourself knowing it, it felt like those thoughts had been kicked right back up. You were an outlaw, running with a group of outlaws. What were you supposed to do with a kid?

You thought for a moment about Jack, how tired Abigail seemed and the concern she had over his well-being was constant while living in the gang. Jack had gotten sick in Colter–and he did seem better now, but…

If something like that were to happen again, how would a _newborn_ survive that?

“You not eatin’ anymore or what?” 

Your shoulders jumped slightly, Arthur’s voice like metal grinding against metal in the moment. He was the _last_ person you wanted to see, yet you knew he was the only one you _should_ be talking to in the moment. It still didn’t stop the somewhat alarmed look that crossed your face, his own expression tightening in confusion as he let out a small huff. 

“What’s gotten into you lately? More skittish than a wild horse.” 

“I…” Well, it was now or never. “Come sit a moment, will you? I need to talk to you.” 

The confusion on his face only worsened. “…What about?”

“Just…something that’s been happening lately.”

He seemed to relent at that, stepping over a couple dead branches before he made his way toward where you sat. There was a touch of relief that you didn’t have to convince him further or just blurt it out while he was standing there. Arthur sat down next to you, knees almost touching. 

“Listen, I ain’t the best shoulder to cry on,” he said, glancing toward you, “You’re gonna have to just tell me what’s goin’ on.” 

Oh, you knew.

“I…” you started, feeling like your heart was in your throat, “I know we both don’t seem to want to even talk about it, but you…you remember that night we had a couple months ago?”

“…Yeah,” he replied after a moment, leaning forward to rest an arm against one of his knees, “Look, if you’re gonna tell me that you didn’t…that you regret it, you really don’t need to tell me. I get it. I should’ve been more in control, it shouldn’t of happened.” 

“ _No, no._ It’s–it’s not that, I…” you let out a breath–was that you saying you didn’t regret it? “Shit, I don’t even know how to say this. I started…feeling strange, and most everybody knows about this stomach thing I have and…I think I’m pregnant.” 

You almost couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, those tremors in your hands coming back somewhat as you tried to keep them clenched in your lap. That part of you that had been denying that for months desperately wanted to reach out and pull the words back into your mouth, keep them shut behind your teeth for another period of time. Still, upon raising your gaze, the somewhat wide-eyed yet distant look on Arthur’s face told you all you needed to know. 

“Are you sure?” he asked after a moment, “Are you _sure_ that you’re…that it’s…?”

“The doctor looked at me like I was an idiot when I asked him if he thought I was expecting, so I’m pretty sure.” 

It was at that point that Arthur bent forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. You had imagined his reaction in a number of ways. That he would get angry and storm off, that he’d deny it as much as you had been for as long as you knew about the baby. Though, seeing him almost slumped over in defeat? That wasn’t quite what you had been expecting. 

“How the hell are we gonna take care of a baby?” he asked after a moment, your brow furrowing. “Dutch’s got us _way_ out east, all that money we lost, he’s got me workin’ tooth and nail to get enough to get back out west…” 

“Well, I…” you started, but trailed off as you realized you didn’t have a proper answer to that. It was a question you had been asking yourself, much as you shoved it aside again and again. 

“I can’t…” Arthur replied, rising from where he was sitting. For a moment you feared he might actually storm off like you had been expecting, but he only seemed to approach one of the trees within the space you both occupied, his tense back turned toward you. 

“I’m scared too,” you admitted after a moment, letting out another quick breath. “Frankly, I’m _terrified._ ” 

“I should’ve known better,” he replied after a moment, shaking his head as he turned back toward you, “I had sworn off…doin’ that sort of thing when…I-I lost my son.” 

“What?”

“Couple years ago–long time ago, really. I…I met a waitress, we had a night together and she fell pregnant with a little boy. _My_ little boy. Tried to be there for them, and it worked for a couple years–one foot in and one foot out. That ended. Some…no good bastards killed ‘em both over some robbery for _ten dollars._ I was with the gang when it happened. Came back to two crosses outside the house…” 

A pit of sadness filled your stomach as he spoke about his son, something you had no clue about. Much as he tried to keep his composure, you could tell he was struggling to get the story out. Trying to imagine turning up outside that house to find…? _Christ._

“I _can’t_ let that happen again. I don’t know if…” 

“It could be different this time,” you replied, gathering yourself to a stand. You weren’t completely sure where the certainty was coming from. “It’s not just you and me. Jack’s probably the most protected member of this gang, you think the others wouldn’t do the same for this child?”

“This even what you want?”

“…I don’t know,” you admitted, hugging your arms to yourself. “I don’t know, I’m still just…trying to realize that this is happening in the first place. I’d been denying that it was for…a while.” 

“How long you known?”

“A couple months.” 

“Couple _months?_ ”

“I’d been denying that it was happening,” you snapped, shaking your head. “Thought if I’d _ignored_ it long enough, it would turn out to be something else. My family treated their children like horse shit, I don’t even know how to interact with Jack half the time. I’m _scared_ , I don’t know how I’m going to be as a mother. I fear I’m going to be like my own.” 

“My pa hated me,” Arthur replied, causing you to glance toward him, “Switched between usin’ me for beggin’ and tellin’ me how useless I was. Thing is, I know that’s bad, and you do too. I don’t…I don’t think you’d end up like your mother.” 

“I guess…” you replied, sniffling in a breath as you let out a heavy sigh, “Shit.” 

“Yeah, you can say that again…” he muttered, pushing himself off the tree as he walked closer toward you. “We’re…we’ll figure this out, just…” 

“No offense,” you started, glancing down toward your feet, “I was not expecting a _we_ in this situation.” 

“What, you implyin’ it’s not mine?”

“You’re _really_ asking me that? No, of course not.” 

“Then I got some responsibility in this, too,” he replied, “I’m not gonna leave you alone, I’m not _Marston._ ” 

“John and Abigail have their own unique situation. We’re…we’re not even together. Spent months not even wanting to _talk_ about that night.” 

“I know,” Arthur replied, his tone dropping to something more somber, “I just…with what happened that mornin’, I’d assumed that you regretted sleepin’ with me. Hell, I broke my own word about that.” 

“…I didn’t know how to react, and how quickly the whole thing was brushed aside I just had no idea what was going on in your head.” 

“…Guess it don’t matter now,” he replied around a sigh, “I’m sorry. If I’d been thinkin’ for a second I would’ve seen this comin’.” 

“You…you don’t need to apologize. It was mutual, unless my memory’s lying to me. I liked you before then, had wanted something from that and maybe it was selfish of me to have acted without thinking when I saw the opportunity.” 

“I wouldn’t have done any of that if I hadn’t felt somethin’ too,” he replied, shaking his head, “Guess we weren’t thinkin’ this would happen.” 

“Yeah…” 

You let the conversation linger in the air for a few moments, but were surprised to feel the weight of his hands on your shoulders, rubbing your upper arms soothingly for a moment as he seemed to think. 

“Anybody else know?” he asked, meeting your gaze. 

“Just Grimshaw. She found me in a state earlier and guessed it.” 

He nodded his head lightly, seeming to accept that as he gently squeezed your arms. 

“We’ll figure this out,” he repeated, “It’s a… _damn lot_ to take in, but…we’ll figure it out.” 

“Yeah. Yeah…” you replied, giving a soft nod of your own, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

“It’s fine,” he replied, dropping his hands, “It’ll be okay. Just…please try to eat more. That’s concernin’ by itself before I even knew…” 

“I’ll…I’ll try,” you said around a soft huff, “The stew just doesn’t sit sometimes.” 

“Not the first time…” he muttered, a part of you relieved to see at least a touch of humor in him with everything that had just happened. You offered him a small grin. 

You knew this was far from over, but at least the news was out. You could carry on from there. You would both figure it out, you just had to trust that.


	9. Nearly Gone (Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: “Hi! Can you please make an arthur/reader where the reader gets taken by the nite folk? She’s nearly dead when he finds her and he’s just v worried? Previously established relationship if you can"
> 
> Warnings: Some heavy stuff: torture, gore, kidnapping, murder, mentions of death. It’s mostly angst.

…He was really hoping that wasn’t another body. 

Currently riding around in the swamps, the evening heat soaking into his skin, he knew he was pushing into territory that belonged to some rather terrifying folk. He’d heard the stories, seen a few of them. That weeping woman in the swamps, his concern met with knives and silence. The odd body he found tied to or hanging from trees, final letters confirming the horror the stories suggested. He’d even helped that man out in the swamps reclaim his house back from the bastards.

Regardless of his previous encounters, finding one of their victims was a disconcerting sight every time. 

Arthur spurred his horse into a quicker trot, approaching the tree with the strange shape that seemed to be growing out of the bark. However, the closer he got, the more he knew it was what he’d been hoping it wasn’t. It took him a moment to notice the details, the blood soaked ropes–and his stomach dropped. Along with knowing it was a body, he noticed the familiar clothing, blood soaked and torn, and the saddlebag that had been dropped at the base of the tree. 

He knew that saddlebag, it was the one he got _you._

He was looking at _you_. 

Words seemed to die in his throat, Arthur locking up a moment before he slowed his horse, getting out of the saddle and stepping down into the wet earth under his boots. Much as a part of him was saying he was cutting down your corpse–he could barely see your face, head tilted downward, your skin caked in grime. Yet, he still moved with great speed, pulling his knife out to cut away at the ropes around your chest. You weren’t dead, he wasn’t the one who found your corpse. 

As it would turn out, you weren’t dead but damn near close. 

As the ropes that were constricted around your torso were cut, you let out a sputtering wheeze, a bit of blood escaping your mouth with a quick, wet, cough. Arthur reached out as you sagged forward, quickly wrapping his arms around you as your legs made no attempt to keep you upright. He lowered you somewhat against the front of the tree next to your saddlebag, your breathing still a painful wheeze in his ears, but you were breathing. 

“I got you, darlin’, I–”

There was a sudden animal cry, one that sounded off yet familiar all the same. Arthur stood to his full height, keeping you sitting behind him as he removed his revolver. Sure enough, some people came running in out of the swamps, Arthur recognizing them as the Night Folk. Silent as ever, the only sound around him was the swamp and the crack of his gunshots as he took them out as quickly as he could manage. Much as it was better that you had nobody alive to trail after you, Arthur knew that his opportunity to keep you alive was rapidly closing with each shot he took. 

When the final body in the ambush dropped to the ground, Arthur wasted no time in letting out a shrill whistle to call his horse over. Again, more time being wasted, but when he scooped you up from the ground, you were still thankfully alive, letting out another rattling sound that might have been a noise of pain. Once his horse was close enough, Arthur lifted you up into the saddle, pulling himself up behind you before spurring his horse forward toward the Saint Denis doctor. Much as he didn’t want to show his face too much around the city currently, you would not survive the night back at camp. 

With the way you made no way to keep yourself upright in the saddle, your head lulled back against his chest and your body jostling with each beat of his horse’s hooves against the ground, he saw that clear as day. 

* * *

_Your legs were burning, feeling like you were losing control of your movements as you continued to try to sprint through the mud and water of the swamps. They were coming, you knew they were. You had heard a woman screaming, crying. Much as you had just wanted to get to Saint Denis, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it. Though, with the startle of your horse darting off into the trees and the woman rising up with murderous intent once you had gotten close enough, your mind had panicked and you took off sprinting._

_There was still the weight of your revolver around your hip, your run slowing after a good scramble to keep yourself going. To open the distance between you and these people, yet you couldn’t. With your mind racing, you stopped completely, pulling the weapon out of its holster and aimed it toward the people charging toward you._

_You fired off a couple shots, dropping a few as they came out of the trees. In the back of your mind, you knew you were already low on ammo. Some part of you just shrugged at the idea of heading up to Arthur’s room to get the ammo you needed. You figured you would just get more at the general store while you were in the city, and yet–_

_You pulled the trigger and it hit an empty chamber as more people moved out of the trees toward you. The whole time, outside of the sobbing from the woman earlier, there was no shouting, taunting. No gunshots, no horses being used to overtake you. If you had been more prepared, if you had known better, you might have had a chance to fight back against them._

_Yet, you made enough mistakes to make that an impossible situation in the moment. You ran from your horse and you were out of ammo._

_In a last ditch effort, you turned and flung your revolver toward the person nearest to you. It connected, you heard it, but you had turned around before you could really see in order to run. However, you were greeted with a solid body, your immediate reaction was to start swinging. Your fist connected with their gut, yet as you moved to side step around them, something solid came down hard across the back of your head._

_Immediately, there was a ringing in your ears, your exhausted legs giving out under the harshness of the blow._

* * *

Thankfully, the streets of Saint Denis were pretty bare at night. 

Arthur knew he could not afford to slow down for anything or anybody, his horse’s hooves against cobblestone echoing in his ears as he tried to keep you upright in the saddle with a steady arm wrapped around your torso. There had been no response to his words, his assurances. It seemed like you had no idea you were even alive still, just a mess of blood and mud stained clothes and dangling limbs. You couldn’t have been tied to that tree for long, they were hanging about to wait until he was distracted enough to attack and you were still alive. 

He was kicking himself–he should have known something like this was going to happen. With how everything had been headed for the gang, he figured this might as well have been something to expect. You had left to see what you could stir up in the city, had seemed somewhat excited about it. Remarked how you hadn’t been in one in years but knew how to work them for your benefit. You had placed your hand on his shoulder, commenting on the tightness of his expression before you pressed a kiss to his lips. 

_“I’ll be fine, you just have to trust me on this.”_

Now it seemed like you were going to die in his arms. 

He steered his horse around another corner, charging down the street as it became more familiar. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, two figures standing just outside of the practice as it seemed to be getting dark. The doctor and one of the nurses who had been working glanced up at his approach, Arthur pulling back on the reins of his horse as the doctor started to walk toward him. 

“What happened?” the doctor demanded, Arthur slowing his horse to a stop next to him. 

“Found her out in the swamps, strung up like a…I dunno. She’s in a bad way.” 

“We had just shut the doors to the practice but–”

“She’s–” he paused, slipping off the saddle while trying to keep you from falling off with him before he could gather you into his arms. “She’s _very_ dear to me. She ain’t gonna make it through the night if she can’t get any help…” 

“Alright. Alright, come on,” the doctor said, turning quickly as he gestured toward the woman standing a few steps behind him, meeting Arthur’s gaze with a bit of a wide-eyed stare. “Miss, we need to get the surgery ready. Please light the lanterns, I am going to need to examine her wounds.” 

Arthur followed behind the two of them into the somewhat dark building toward one of the rooms, the doctor opening the door before pointing toward one of the tables inside. 

“Put her down there,” he directed, Arthur slipping past him to do so as the room eventually grew brighter from the lanterns. You tensed and shook somewhat in his arms as he did so, another sign that you were still with them. Arthur placed you down on the table, your body still not doing anything to move on its own outside of the odd jerk or noise that would escape your mouth. 

Arthur stepped aside as the doctor moved in to look you over, examining the parts that were still bleeding and opening one of your eyes. 

“She’s not all that responsive, her head’s very warm…” he commented, shaking his own head, “I’ve seen these wounds before, too, on…” 

He didn’t finish his sentence, Arthur didn’t really need him to. You were probably in the minority who were alive enough to be taken to him for help after an attack from who you had run into. 

“I’m going to try to treat her wounds, stop the bleeding,” the doctor said, glancing toward Arthur, “You’ve done enough for tonight, you should try to get some sleep. There’s that saloon in town where you can get a room if you–” 

“I ain’t leavin’ until I know she’s not gonna be _dead_ by the time I’m awake.” 

“…Suit yourself,” the doctor said after a beat, “There are chairs out in the hallway. You don’t have to leave but there’s no use in you standing behind me while I do this.” 

* * *

_You were jerked awake by sudden movement, someone pulling you up from the dirty floor of the cabin you had been kept in. You could still taste the rag that had been shoved in your mouth, any protest you let out at being moved being muffled. Your body ached from being dragged around, cuts and wounds starting to heal over, some burning with freshness. You had tried to escape many times, usually met with some resistance and recently the sharp edge of a blade shoved into your side._

_That wound was bad, making it hard for you to stand upright._

_Nobody talked, not to you and not really to each other. You knew they had some sort of system, mimicking certain animal noises that got certain responses from the people around you. Still, you had no idea what was going on._

_However, there was commotion, people moving about quickly in defense of whatever or whoever was outside. You were pulled harshly toward the back of the cabin and outside, your body protesting with sharp flares of pain as you tried to resist what was happening. The sounds of gunshots startled you, causing you and the person trying to sneak you out to flinch. You had never seen them use guns, not when attacking and they hadn’t used them when they had chased you down the few times you got further than a couple steps._

_With that knowledge, you started to thrash about in the grip of your captor–someone else was there. This could be your chance._

_You were dragged along, your screams and pleas for help were held behind the rag you couldn’t get out of your mouth and the force of being pulled along._

_With another breath through your nose, you managed to turn yourself around toward the cabin again where the fight was happening. You could see the people of the group keeping you dropping like flies, your eyes scanning for the flash of a gun. Eventually, your eyes found the source, the person moving along quickly toward the cabin. You took in another quick breath, your eyes widening._

_**You knew that hat, that shirt. You knew that face.** _

_He didn’t see you, too busy shooting at the people coming out of the cabin. Still, you screamed, feeling the vibration of it behind the rag. With the gunshots and distance, it was no use but you tried. You screamed, tried to call for help. His name. All the while you were pulled around, your legs giving out in desperation as you started to sob as your struggle and desperation went unnoticed. You were pulled upright and over a shoulder, your eyes still on the cabin as they stung with tears._

_**Arthur, please…** _

* * *

All he could really do was wait. 

The doctor left the room a while ago, wiping the blood from his hands as he directed the nurse there with him to help him move you into one of the beds in the other room. Arthur could feel the exhaustion from the stress and anxiety, the lack of sleep weighing heavily along with the guilt. He knew these people were out there when you had left–perhaps not to the full extent, he hadn’t really until he had got that cabin back for that man in the swamp. You had been missing that whole time and he had no damn idea. 

He should have warned you, went with you or–shit, he didn’t even know. Maybe that guilt was misplaced, some reasonable part of him arguing that he couldn’t have known this would have happened, and yet he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you when you were moved by the doctor and the nurse into another room. 

He should have said more to you. That he valued your presence, that you stayed with him even during points where he was angry, stressed, and a pain to even be around. Through the arguments. He loved you, he knew that long before this happened. He felt terrible that this was what pushed all of it further to the surface, but it was true. 

“You should try to get some sleep.” 

He was getting tired of hearing that. 

Arthur glanced up to see the soft eyes of the nurse that had been with them for the night, the streets outside getting somewhat lighter but still very much dark. He let out a small sigh through his nose, rubbing tiredly against the side of his jaw. 

“The doctor’s closed her wounds and stopped the bleeding, the most we can do now is let her rest and wait to see if she wakes up enough to drink and eat something. She’s very weak but until then…there’s nothing else any of us can do,” she explained, lowering her gaze somewhat, “I’ll stay tonight until another nurse comes in the morning. The doctor doesn’t like to give beds to non-patients with how things are in this city, otherwise I would offer you to stay with her, but…” 

“I understand,” Arthur said, somewhat clipped but not as stern as he had been a couple hours ago–he could feel how useless he was in this situation. They didn’t need to tell him that. 

“If you stay in the Bastille, I can send someone to your room as soon as she’s woken up,” she offered, Arthur letting out a small sigh through his nose. 

He really didn’t want to leave the building with them still not being able to give him assurance and you weren’t going to pass away while he was asleep, but…

“..Fine,” he said with a sigh, “Thank you. I’m gonna need to hold ya to that.” 

“Of course,” the nurse said with a small nod, Arthur returning it lightly as he stood from the chair. His limbs felt heavy, the energy his anxiety had given him had ebbed out and he knew exhaustion very well. 

There was nothing he could do right now. Still, he cast a glance toward the room they put you in before he relented and headed toward the door. 

* * *

_It didn’t feel real anymore, but you knew you were running again. Running with reckless abandon, tripping and fumbling over exposed roots and mud that threatened to pull the boots right off your feet._

_Still, you needed to keep moving. They couldn’t find you again, they were going to kill you._

_Why they had kept you alive for so long, you had no idea. You were exhausted, being dragged from place to place, days blurred together. Yet, you saw your chance when the person watching you had succumbed to his own exhaustion, causing you to move toward the water and followed that along until you were far enough away to start running toward the road._

_Any damn road, anybody with people on it._

_You stumbled, the rope keeping your arms binded seeming to slip away through your struggling. Finally. You paused a moment to rip the cloth in your mouth away with a gag and stuttered cry of relief. Though, you knew that would be short lived if you didn’t keep moving. Working up a small amount of willpower, you started to run again, much as your legs felt like dead weight at that point._

_The swamp seemed to stretch on forever–just mud, water, and trees._

_Still, you continued to move, pushing forward as fast as your legs could carry you. Eventually, things seemed to even out, the ground becoming more solid. You slowed for a moment, looking around you while breathing and wheezing heavily. It was a road, one you had been hoping to find, yet it didn’t feel right. Everything felt still, like it was waiting. You were waiting. Why did you stop? You breathed out heavily, shifting before turning and started to run again down the road. You needed to keep going, needed to find your way to town or back to camp or–_

_The thoughts were cut short by a whizzing sound, your body suddenly hit the ground with the impact long before you felt the pain of it. Looking down, you could feel the sharp pain starting to shoot up your leg as a makeshift arrow stuck out of your leg._

_**Shit, no. No, no no!** _

_You tried to get up, yet any movement had you sobbing out in pain as the arrow did its job. It wasn’t long until you heard footfalls coming toward you. Yet, that unreal feeling seemed to settle around you, the sound of a struggle coming from behind you before more people’s legs appeared in your line of vision. They were pulling someone along, hearing an all to familiar voice in your ears._

_Suddenly, you knew that person they were holding, the outfit, the satchel, the boots. You struggled to find your voice, couldn’t look up to see him but you heard him struggle, squirm, before there was a sickening sound, a gurgling that had your gut twisting and robbed the air from your strained lungs as you saw him stop moving, legs going limp before he was dropped._

_He landed in a heap on the ground in front of you, his neck stained with blood as Arthur stared lifeless into the space above your head. You seemed to find your air first, taking in a deep breath as you felt someone grip your arms and hauled you to your feet._

In the doctor’s practice in Saint Denis, one of the nurses jolted and dropped a glass onto the floor when you, despite your injuries, managed to shoot upright in bed and screamed bloody murder. 

* * *

It took a few moments for him to stir. 

Getting that damn hotel room felt terrible. Everything was too rich, too luxurious for what he had just been through. Still, a bed was a bed. It took some tossing and turning before Arthur managed to find some sleep–dreamless, despite everything. Still, he wasn’t too sure what that sound was until it happened again. Sounded like someone banging against something, until reality sunk in and he realized it was his door. 

Arthur sat up quickly, blinking heavily and stumbling slightly as sleep lingered, but managed to pull it open to see that nurse from before standing outside. She looked exhausted, somber. For a few moments, he felt his stomach tighten as a part of him waited for the words. 

_We acted too late, she–_

“She’s awake,” she stated around a somewhat tired exhale, “A tad hysterical with her fever, but awake. If you wish to see her, now is the time.” 

The relief he felt was instant, Arthur shutting his eyes a moment as he let out a breath before he nodded, stating he’d follow behind in a minute. He managed to pull himself together from the lingering effects from sleep, gathering his things before heading down toward his horse to make his way back to the doctor. He wasn’t too sure what would be greeting him when he got there, but if you were awake, that was a good sign. 

He walked into the building and down toward the room they had put you in, seeing the doctor from before in there as he was talking to you while you were nursing something from a tin cup. 

“You have to rest, straining your sutures like that again won’t be good,” he explained, your gaze on the blanket over your lap as you nodded lightly. 

You looked terrible. They had cleaned you a bit while you were resting, at least in the face and arms, but he could see the days of little sleep in your face. However, he didn’t get to linger on the thought long as you raised your gaze to meet his own. The expression that crossed your face was…strange. Your eyes widened, stare unwavering as if you were looking a ghost in the face. The doctor shifted, glancing over his shoulder toward him as well before raising to his feet, turning toward you. 

“I’ll give you two a moment, but you really need to rest.” 

Your gaze flickered between Arthur’s and the doctors, as if you were disbelieving that he was even standing there. Arthur finally moved forward as the doctor moved toward his surgery, all of which was watched by you in complete silence. He moved toward the bed, pausing a moment as he tried to find what to say. However, you raised your arms toward him, Arthur moving toward you at the invitation. 

He had been expecting you to pull him into an embrace, yet your hands found his face, cupping his cheeks as you seemed to take him in. Arthur let out a somewhat confused huff when he felt you tilt his head up as if to look under his chin for something. 

“Head’s still attached, far as I’m aware,” he commented, tilting his head back down as you pressed your hands against his cheeks again. 

“I thought you were _dead,_ ” you said, your voice rough and shaking somewhat. 

“What?”

“I-I- _I saw you die!_ ” you exclaimed, tears gathering in your eyes, “I saw…I saw your neck get…”

“I weren’t the one strung up in a tree,” he replied, bringing his own hands up to remove your hands from his face as he felt your fingers digging in a bit as if feeling the bone under his skin would be enough to confirm he was there. “I weren’t just _thinkin’_ you was, either. You came _very_ close to dyin’.” 

“…They got me,” you muttered, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. 

“They don’t no more,” Arthur stated, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed as he held your hands in his own. Your hands were clammy and shaking, but he would take that over the lifeless body he had carried in the night before. 

“I ain’t lettin’ nobody take you again, I promise,” he continued, letting you pull your hands from under his own. 

Instead of pulling them toward yourself or shying away from his words, you reached out toward him again. Arthur shifted forward, wrapping his arms gently around your back as you held tightly to his shoulders, letting out a few shuttering breaths as you buried your face in his neck. He brought his hand up to the back of your head, holding you to him as you tightened your hold. 

“I’m scared I’m going to sleep and wake up…in the swamps or you’ll be gone and…” 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Arthur stated, “We don’t have to go anywhere, either. Got a room in that saloon for a couple days, if the doctor’s got you out by then. I’ll explain what happened if anybody comes lookin’.”

You nodded lightly against him, Arthur feeling you relax in his hold somewhat. He shifted back as you did, but you didn’t pull away completely as your hands found his face again, looking deeply into his eyes for a moment before you nodded, seeming to accept that he really was there. 

Arthur leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before pressing his forehead there. 

“Almost lost you,” he muttered, watching as you leaned your head against his own, screwing your eyes shut. “I love you, darlin’. Not sure what I would’ve done if I did.” 

“I love you, too,” you whispered, cupping your hand against the stubble on his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, either.” 

Arthur nodded lightly against the side of your head, holding the gesture for a few more moments before he pulled away to let you rest back against the pillow. 

“You look exhausted,” you commented, making Arthur chuckle. 

“Yeah, but not as much as you. Should get some rest, let them do what they need and you’ll be fine.” 

You nodded lightly, holding onto his hand as you allowed yourself to nod off. Arthur squeezed your hand in return as you did so, glancing away toward the doorway somewhat. His chest still tightened uncomfortably at the thought of what you had been through, and his memories of the night before, but with your breathing evening out and your hand resting in his own, he finally felt himself relax. 

He still held your hand for some time after, keeping that moment. 


End file.
